Reunionklok
by Insane Kawaii Shippo-Chan
Summary: CancerousklokSequel Five years have gone by and things have obviously changed. After a chance meeting between the drummers, the boys want to start over with disbanded Cancerous, despite a few life changing things. The problem though:So do the Undertakers.
1. Was it Fate?

Gah! I am back a bit early then I planned, but that's good! I'm going to be ubber busy with work and school now until May. 6 days of school plus 30 hours of work and volunteering at the library is gonna be hell. 50 hours of my life is wasted so easily for five classes and two jobs! What the hell was I thinking!?!?!?!?

Track of Choice: "That was Just Your Life" by Metallica

* * *

Chapter One: Was it Fate?

Over five years had come to pass since that faithful night when Cancerous quite literally walked out on Dethklok's life, leaving hollow and bitter sweet feelings. After the initial shock, Ofdensen made sure to keep his promise to the five women Dethklok had held so dear in their heart of hearts. It pained the business man slightly to have seen the boys sulk for nearly a week, their hearts broken and for some their dreams shattered. But in the end, as Moira had once kindly put it, it was all just business that went bad.

The only thing anyone could be glad about was Dethklok's ability to direct their anger into their music, producing three more albums and now being recognized as the third largest economy, yet the money brought them little happiness. No one had heard from Cancerous since Ofdensen had shown them the news, letting them believe the girls just blended back into society.

The CFO was in his office, going through the mail to make sure it was clean. Satisfied that once again the magazines contained news of the girls' growing careers in the special Dethklok Censored version Ofdensen had requested, he had a worker put it back in the mail box until one of the boys went to retrieve it. His phone went off then.

"Charles Ofdensen speaking." He answered coolly, sitting back in his chair. "Ah, yes… Mr. Johnson, good day. Yes, Pickles did want to sponsor." He resisted the urge to sigh. The drummer had deliberately did it against the manager's advice, but the man said he could stand to see his favorite racer not compete if all he needed was a main sponsor. And there came Pickles to the rescue.

Jimmie Johnson, a NASCAR racer, talked animatedly on the other end. The CFO rolled his eyes. Once the driver calmed down, the two got down to business. Ofdensen half listened intently as Johnson rambled on and on about his qualifications and appreciation of the sponsorship, his mind more set on going over his schedule of routine maintenance in Mordhaus. One thing really caught Ofdensen's attention however.

"You want to meet Pickles in Daytona?" he furrowed his brows, "Who are the other drivers?" Cradling his phone between his shoulder and ear, the CFO took out a key and unlocked a drawer to his left, sorting through the important files until he came across the one he was looking for. Flipping it open, the first page was a clipping of newspaper with a fiery red headed woman holding up a trophy.

"Huh? I don't know. It's a practice racer on Thursday, so it depends on who arrives. So far Earnhardt, Harvick and Smith and Kurt Busch are here." The racer said, obviously a bit confused about the manager's sudden question.

"Do you know if any female drivers are competing?" he jotted down on a note pad to call the officials of NASCAR to get a lineup. The idea of Pickles going to Florida to meet the man he was sponsoring wasn't bad, but the fact his ex was now the cover girl of every motor magazine and NASCAR, it couldn't be done. He had a pact to keep to them. Plus, if any of the boys went on another emotional rollercoaster, it wouldn't be good business.

"Not that… I know of. Several racers are coming in tomorrow, maybe they'll know. I don't think CC is competing, something about time off, but I'm sure about her or the other women."

"No, I'll call the officials right now to confirm the drivers."

There was a small pause, "Sir, can I ask why you want to know?"

Ofdensen sighed mentally, the guy was just bothersome. Yet he was Pickles' favorite. "It's nothing to concern yourself with. There is a female racer, that uh, Pickles' not quite fond of. I will discuss the matter with Pickles and I will get back to you." With that, the two bid each other adieu and Ofdensen immediately called the president.

"Hello, this is Charles Ofdensen, the CFO of Dethklok. Pickles is sponsoring one of the racers and I was… curious to know who is competing this season."

---

Pickles and Toki were in the living room watching TV, minding their own business as the drummer flipped through the channel. So far nothing caught their interest. The rhythm guitarist sighed, resting his head on his hand that was on the arm rest of the couch, a lollipop in his other hand.

"Dis sucks." He said quietly, "Dere's never notings to does anymores."

Pickles snorted, "Tell me about it, I'm gonna be fucking pissed if NASCAR is cancelled on TV half way through. None of us can go unless we get permission from the asshole, but he's been a fucking Nazi these last few years." Turning off the TV, he sighed, "I wonder why though…"

Toki shrugged, "Perhaps cause of dem…?" No one ever mentioned Cancerous or the girls by name, just them. Though the memories heart, the men simply couldn't forget.

"Nah, I doubt it. I haven't heard anything about them since that one time on the news. They don't seem the kind to car for cars and shit like that."

Nathan came trudging in then, a bowl of cereal in hand. Sporting a large hickey on his neck and scratches on his arms, the other two raised their brows in question. "Were you fucking mauled by a lion?"

"…No… the chick just liked to play rough." Speaking of which, said chick came into the room dressed in a skimpy robe, hazel eyes looking at him from beneath blonde hair. Her arms were folded over her chest as she huffed. "What? I fucking told you, we're not dating." Nathan growled, not bothering to look up at his guest from the night before once he turned to stare at the television. "It was a good fuck, be happy."

"How can you be so mean, Nate? After I gave you the best nig-" Nathan cut her off.

"That wasn't the best night. It was good, but not the best. Get out before I call security." Everyone slinked back at the cold and heartlessness of his words. The girl scoffed and went out again, bumping into Skwisgaar and his guitar.

"Whats all dat abouts? Natans, is dat not likes…. The number five ladies you hads dis week?"

And it was true. What everyone had realized years before was Nathan Explosion still had some attachment to the former queen of metal, as they all did to their significant other. While they forgave and forgot, Nathan simply couldn't, unable to keep a steady relationship for long time and turned more into a man whore then Skwisgaar. So far, all the women he slept with had some kind resemblance to Moira, may it have been the hair, eyes, body or features. The man simply was never satisfied.

"Shut up."

Just then, Ofdensen paged Pickles on the intercom. Sighing again, the drummer got up and left his fellow band mates to go channel surfing again, settling for station that played nothing but horror movies.

--- Elsewhere---

"Hey, Cherry Coke, get yer ass over here, we're leavin'! We gotta be in Daytona in two days if ya wanna practice." Said a man in his mid forties, dressed in a mechanic's jumpsuit covered in grease stains. The man had short reddish brown hair slicked back, a few strands hanging over his eyebrows as his left green eye twitched in annoyance. Running a hand over his beard, he frowned. "We gotta get there before the media know yer a fill in fer Dave Blaney."

A woman jumped out of a nice two story country home, surrounded by farmland and animals. A herd of cows mooed while they grazed several yards away. The woman had long blood red hair tied up in a high pony, emerald colored eyes laughing as she smile broadly. It was her, Cherry Maraschino of Cancerous.

"Now, now Parker. That ain't no way to speak to yer little sister! Competition or not, don't be a hard ass." The Texan woman giggled. "I had to make sure I didn't ferget my suit this time."

The older sibling sighed, "Fine. Momma, we're leavin!" he called to the house. A voice was heard in the distance shouting out a farewell. "We're behind as it is, Cherry. We gotta drive through the night in order ta make it to Daytona. Only bathroom n' food breaks, nothing else, got it?" the woman nodded as she jumped up into truck that pulled the trailer which contained their cars.

After a year since the breakup of her band and being a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader with her younger sister on a dare, the former drummer of the greatest female metal band had found a passion in racing, becoming the first woman in history to win the Sprint Cup two seasons ago. At first it started out with drag racers and the likes, petty competition of speed and aero dynamics. One of the regulars of NASCAR had noticed her, thus getting her a contract with Bill Davis Racing team. Within the next year and winning rookie of the year, Cherry had gone on to become a racing legend and the most wanted woman in America. She even had the honor to dine with the current President of the United States. Such were weird times.

But under the name pseudonym of CC Woodrow to ward off any lingering fans or Undertakers, no one really knew it was Cherry. With racing and music being two totally different industries, no one really paid much attention or thought to suspect the two were one and the same, even with the piercing and star tattoo, for all they knew the racer admired the drumming star.

Putting on her cowboy hat, she turned on the radio as her brother climbed in and revved the engine, behind them three vans followed, one holding most of their pit crew who hadn't left before them and the other their luggage and equipment that couldn't fit into the main trailer.

"From Dethklok's new album Infinite Dark: That was Just Your Life." The announcer said as he started the song right at the time the lyrics began. It was Pickles' voice. Parker, Cherry's eldest brother, gave her a quick glance as he made a move to change the station. Cherry stopped him.

"No… don't. I…" her voice trailed. There was an awkward pause.

Parker sighed, "Cherry Coke… Sis, it's been five years. He's not going to look for you." His mouth twitched, not wanting to make his sister sad in anyway. The poor girl had a rough life as it was.

The woman shrugged, "I know… but I can't help but miss him. I doubt he would if he's forgiven me, he might think I'm just no name Sally on the streets." Then she sighed, "I will never love a man like I did him." Without realizing it, Cherry ran her hands over her flat stomach underneath the loose fitting tank top, a distant look in her eyes as she continued to stare forward. The two remained silent after that.

---Two days later: Daytona, Florida---

Pickles carefully pulled up to one of the parking spaces at the Daytona International Speedway in his Harley Davidson Fat Boy, customized in a very metal way with a giant menacing skull that actually held the head light inside. It was his prize possession and the only thing he couldn't bear to give up when he and the other Dethklok members practically cleansed their home of everything that reminded them of the girls. Ofdensen had allowed him to go, no hearing a certain CC Woodrow on the list. Little did anyone now; Blaney had pulled out from the race because of a dislocated hip, sending Cherry as his replacement since they were on the same team.

"Hey, you made it!" Someone said from the main entrance. Pickles turned his head and sighed.

"Had nothing better to do back home. Today's a practice race, right?" He covered his eyes for a moment, looking up at the setting sun.

"Correct. And again, thank you so much for being my new sponsor when Lowe's and Kobalt Tools ditch me. I'm a big fan." The now 40 year old race car driver said as he shook the drummer's hand. Jimmie Johnson's smile broadened as he let go, sticking his hands in the pocket of his jump suit. "Well, the pit crew is setting up, how about we go to the lounge? You can meet some of the other racers."

Shrugging, Pickles followed him and tuned him out as Johnson continued to rant about doing his best to enter the Race of Champions and the likes. As the two entered the spacious room, they got a whiff of barbeque that smelled absolutely wonderful. In line for the buffet were Jeff Gordon, Juan Montoya and Kevin Harvick.

"Hey fellas! Look, its Pickles the Drummer from Dethklok!" The other fifteen men who were present stopped everything and turned to look in awe, "Wow…" Jeff Gordon whistled, "I didn't think Jimmie would actually get them to sponsor!"

Everyone 'oohed' and 'awed', a soft murmur heard as they spoke among themselves like school girls. Harvick was about to greet him when suddenly his phone vibrated. Answering it, he pouted a bit before giving the person on the other end a reply, "Ok… And CC, don't flip out about Jimmie Johnson's new sponsor, ok? Huh? Really? Well… pretty much everyone who's arrived is up in the lounge. Damn, you guys set up quick. Yeah, I'll tell them." He hung up and smiled a bit. "Hey guys," he said to grab everyone's attention, "CC and Parker are here and down in the tracks."

The others shouted in excitement, grabbing their plates and moving to the large wall of windows to see two drivers getting into their cars. Once the light turned green, both rocketed out of the starting line. The men were making bets, leaving Pickles confused. Johnson chuckled.

"We're all friends as well as enemies. Harmless bets. No once races like Parker or CC when they go at it together. Sibling rivalry I suppose. CC plans to advance to the Race of Champions and Chase for the Cup again. She's only been racing for four years, but voted Rookie of the year twice and America's Hottest Woman, ranked third in the world." Johnson glanced as both cars rounded a corner, the Hooter's sponsored car took a sharp turn, leaving skid marks on the pavement and leaving the Coors car behind by a few feet.

This got Pickles' attention, "It's a woman? I've only know of thirteen women in history ever making it to NASCAR. None made it very far though. Where did she rank last year? And I never heard of this CC chick."

"Third. It was a close call. She would have been second, but Harvick passed her by a point. Who hasn't heard of CC? Mr. Pickles, I'm… a little surprised. Everyone knows CC Woodrow, America's number one hottest woman." Then he smiled, "Let's go meet her then. She's a nice girl from Texas. We all adore her, don't matter if we're married or not."

Grabbing his arm, Johnson rushed him down to the field and in a stupid and idiotic move, ran across the tracks once the two cars, apparently going for fifty laps, passed. Going to CC's crew chief, he grabbed the man's headphones and spoke into the mike.

"Hey CC! What up?" Pickles gave him a funny look. This was definitely not how he thought his favorite racer would act like. It was strange.

"Huh? Jimmie?" said the female voice. It was oddly familiar to the drummer and for reasons unknown to him, his heart beat quickened, "Was that you runnin' across the track?"

"Yeah… anyway, come in for a pit stop!"

"No! If I beat Parker, he's paying for my room service the next three months. I'm in the lead!"

"Why are you here anyway? Did you kill Blaney?" As the Hooter's car came close by, the driver rolled down her window and stuck her hand out, flipping him off as she saw him. Sighing, he opted for another reason for her to come by.

"What are you doing?" Pickles asked, wondering if the man was a bit insane. Who the hell runs across a racing track when it's being used?

Pulling the headphones away, the male racer smiled, "This chick is hard to find alone. Something about hating the media. Mr. Pickles, you have to meet this woman. You'll like her." Turning his attention back to the head piece as the cars entered their twentieth lap, Johnson smirked.

"CC… I think you suck." CC's car had just zoomed by them and was about to make a turn but then it suddenly made a wicked sharp turn that nearly caused the car to flip, smoke rising from the tires as the Coors sponsored car went past her. The car then gave a boom before skidding back into the pit spot, stopping within inches of the wall. The car moved from side to side as the driver stumbled out, literally jump over the hood and stomped over to the other racer.

"Say what now?" she threw off her helmet. Red hair danced in the slight ocean breeze, green eyes narrowed in anger as her bottom pierced lip pouted. "I suck? Hon, I fuckin' did better then you last year!"

"Ch-Cherry?" Pickles gasped. "Is that… you?" He simply couldn't believe what, or who, he was seeing. The fullness of her lips, the expressive eyes, that toned figured underneath the thick fire resistant safety suit and that voice. It was a dream unfolding before him.

"Cherry…?" Johnson said in slight confusion.

The woman swung her head, and gasped as well, falling over the wall she was currently trying to climb over. Pickles rushed to her side and with Johnson's help, they had her standing again. Cherry backed away, almost as if she was scared. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, disbelief written all over her face as she stared at the man she had loved for more than five years.

"Pickles? Whu… What are ya doin here?" The urge to run was strong, but her body simply wouldn't move. The two had locked gazes, mesmerized as old feelings and memories began to stir. Cherry licked her lips, Pickles darted his eyes to watch as he stood there with no emotion on his face anymore.

"The hell happened!" another voice interrupted their staring contest, "CC, sis, why'd ya make a U? Whose this?" Taking a good look at the non racer, the man was clueless as to who Pickles was, having little interest in the news and the world of metal music.

"My sponsor." Johnson said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Cherry smacked her forehead, coming out of her trance, "Sponsor! Dethklok? Are you serious or are you fuckin with me?" Her voice cracked, a classic sign that the female was probably going to cry. "Dammit Jimmie!" with that, she stormed away. Pickles went after her, leaving the two racers and silent pit crew wondering about what happened.

"I don't… understand." Jimmie said, "That was weird. OW!" Parker smacked the younger driver upside the head. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a dick! CC… CC is Cherry Maraschino from Cancerous! That there was my sister's fiancé! Remember what happened to Cancerous? That poor girl has been heartbroken since the day she left him; you've just fucked up her recovery!" The man boomed. "Why didn't you tell us who your new sponsor was?"

Jimmie rubbed the back of his head, "How was I to know? Sure, they looked similar, but I didn't know CC was the Cherry from Cancerous. How am I supposed to know?"

"I think you just gave her a fucking heart attack." Looking up at the direction the couple had gone to, he sighed, "Too bad I can't help her. She's gotta do this on her own."

---

"Cherry, wait!" Pickles said as he caught up to her once they made it to the locker room area, "Cherry… Cherry, at least fucking speak to me! What the fuck did I ever do to you?" he was panting as she collapsed into a chair, rubbing her eyes.

Cherry sighed, "You did nothin' Pickles. It was for the better that I… we left." They were left in an uncomfortable silence. Pickles sighed and kneeled in front of her, hoping to get eye contact.

"I… I don't understand." He said softly, "I've been fucking miserable the last five years. I want some answers. Closure." It wasn't that he was mad anymore, but seeing her just walk away from him again had opened up the gaping hole inside him. It hurt to no end, to not see or touch her, to know whether or not she was safe, had she married and the likes.

The former drummer chuckled darkly, "Closure? Please… I'm shocked you ain't yellin' at me." She gave him a dark smile, her eyes showing the deep pain she felt as they made eye contact. "Don'tcha hate me?" she whispered, scared to say it any louder.

"Sure, I'm still mad, but I could never hate you. Never." Cherry finally broke eye contact, unshed tears brimmed the corner of her eyes. She willed herself to give him a small shaky smile. Perhaps she could do what she had meant to do if the time ever came. Make up with Pickles… find closure as he put it.

"S-seriously? You're not?" Pickles shook his head. "Then… uh. I guess we're due fer a talk. Uh… want to go to a bar? There's this one down the street within walkin' distance the boys and I go to often. They'll keep the fans at bay." She gave him a small smile, this one with more confidence.

Pickles returned it and nodded his head. All of a sudden he felt relieved and complete again, Cherry was willing to talk. The drummer watched as she went to her locker and began to dress in normal street clothes, not caring if Pickles or anyone saw her. This had him raising his eyebrow in question. Did she change with the boys? Cherry had better not.

But he had to smile as he watched her shimmy herself into tight jeans. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, as if she hadn't aged in the last half decade. Here he was close to forty while she was still considered in the prime of her life at 32; her birthday had not come to pass just yet. What amazed him most was the fact he didn't blow up on her, demanding she explain everything to him. Instead, the fear of her disappearing from his life again had scared him. The thought of her having moved on without him hurt like crazy, but right now he could tell she hadn't. She was in the same boat as him. Alone.

"Hey, Par. I'm fine. Yeah. No. No. Ugh, shut up old man! Listen, Pickles n' I are gonna head on over to the bar, ok? Yes, we are. No, you may not come. No, I'll kick his ass tomorrow; make his car flip or somethin'. Hmm? Nuh-uh. Ok, love ya too. Alright, alright. Parker! Aw, fuck you." She hung up her phone, a slight blush on cheeks. "Dumbass older brother." Looking up at Pickles, she shrugged, "Well, hop to it before he comes after me."

They walked side by side, her arms folded across her chest while Pickles kept his hands in his pockets. He glanced at her, admiring her dressed in low rise hip huggers, tight black tanks top, matching cowboy hat and flats. Her top rose up to show her midriff, making him realize something.

"Where are… the scars?" he covered his mouth, not wanting to have said that out loud. Cherry rolled her eyes and shook her head with a small smile.

"Laser treatments. Hurt like hell, but the marks started ta fade. You can still seem 'em with better lightin'. Gotta love science." She flashed him a toothy smile as they neared the bar. It wasn't anything special, much to Pickles pleasures. Cherry seemed to like the simple things in life still. Flashing her NASCAR access pass and ID, the two veered to the right into a hall way before going up a set of stairs to the second floor. Much to the drummer's surprise, more race car drivers and other celebrities were there enjoying themselves without the annoyance of fans.

Sitting at the bar, Cherry ordered a mojito while Pickles settled for a beer. They sat quietly for a while, the much softer playing music not causing a problem for them to speak and be heard. Once their drinks came, Cherry turned on her stool until she faced her former fiancé.

"So… how are the boys?" she said to make light talk as they got comfortable around one another again.

Pickles chuckled, "Aside from what the tabloids say, they're ok. Skwisgaar not whoring around so much though. Murderface and his Planet Piss project practically blew up. Apparently he can't even talk on the radio without flipping out." The two shared a laugh, "Uh, Toki's seen better day. Lately he's been a bit down." He took a gulp from his beer. "Poor kid doesn't know what to do with himself. He'll be twenty-eight in a few months."

"And Nathan?" Cherry placed a finger on the straw and moved it around, stirring the contents of her drink. Her knee bumped his thigh, causing both of them to shudder at the contact.

"Well…" he sighed, "Since you guys left, he's been… I don't know, insecure I guess. He sleeps with a shit load of women, and if he does get into a relationship, it doesn't last long. If he so much as suspects something odd, it's over."

The NASCAR driver tapped his leg with her foot. "What about you? Sleepin' 'round much?" she gave him a small knowing smile that made his heart clench painfully.

Pickles nearly choked, "Uh… I…" He visibly paled, not wanting to disclose such a thing with his old lover. It was awkward.

"It's ok. I won't get mad. Promise." Taking a sip from her drink, she leaned back and waited for him to some up enough courage.

The drummer became flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck, "In… in five years? Damn… can't remember since I'm usually all fucked up and hammered if I even decide to uh… ya know." Cherry nodded her head slowly as if understanding, but he caught the sad look on her face. "Cherry I… I never…"

"Save it." she said softly but forcefully. There was no indication of anger or jealousy in her tone, just patience, "I figured as much, Pickles. I too have been with a few guys, but nothin' special, and before ya ask, no, none were the other drivers." Pickles sighed in relief at that. "I keep things as professional as possible on and off the tracks. My brother helps, since I am America's top hottest woman after all." She winked at him, her smile teasing.

Finishing off his drink, Pickles ordered another one, "Enough about me. Have you kept in touch with the others?" the conversation was relaxing, almost as if nothing had happened between them. Their engagement, the loss of their baby, the separation… if was forgotten at the moment.

Cherry leaned against her hand and pouted a little, "Not really. Bloodyfist's in San Diego, a light weight champion and she's been rather successful in Ovary Override, which turns out to be a Psychobilly band er somethin'. Let's see… Lucy's been in France, Dj-in' at some club I think she owns, or at least partially owns…" She took a quick glance at Pickles, "Say… are ya gonna uh… tell the others we met?" Pickles shrugged, "Cause the other two had some big changes in their lives."

"How so?"

Cherry moved a strand of hair behind her ear, "I really shouldn't tell you till Nathan n' Skwisgaar find out fer themselves. But trust me, it's shockin'. It was all over the news fer months." She shook her head to little, her eyes looking up towards the ceiling.

Pickles sat there with his mouth open, his new beer bottle half way to his lips. "Really?" He was confused as why none of them knew anything. Why were they in a bubble?

"Yes soiree!" Cherry sighed, taking a sip from her mojito again. "Mm, those two are Europe's leadin' ladies. Lucy's too, but fer some reason Rune and Mo'ra are way more popular. Can't get enough of 'em. Rune's back ta modelin' and became Vice Pres of her daddy's porn gig. Mo'ra a renowned singer, mostly opera n' pop. Woman totally left metal."

"How come we don't know any of this?" Pickles said, confused. "I know I don't watch the news all the time, but fuck. You think they'd something. Cancerous was an American band."

"Ofdensen has some weird connections I suppose. That man… wow. He can make anything' happen. Ya sure he ain't fuckin' Jesus incarnate?" she said with a chuckle.

Pickles furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?" He didn't like the fact Ofdensen was once again with holding news that concerned them and their personal lives.

Downing the last of her drink, Cherry hummed, "Hmm… it was the last deal Mo'ra had with Charlie. It prevented you from wanting to look fer us while yall were pissed as hell." She paused for a second, spotting someone behind Pickles, "Damn. Wanna head fer my hotel room? More privacy."

"Uh, sure. But why?"

Cherry didn't bother to look at him as she got up, "Rico," she said, capturing the attention of the bartender, "Put it on my brother's tab, 'ight?" Grabbing Pickle's hand, she dragged him to the other end where there was an exit sign hanging over head, "Shit… hope he didn't see-"

"CC!"

"Fuck!" Wondering what was going on, Pickles turned a bit to glance over his shoulder, his brows shooting up to his forehead as he spotted Aric Amilrola trying to catch up to them. "Dip shit can't take a hint!" fumed Cherry. Luckily they managed to get out into the now very crowded street, losing the other racer. "Phew. Now to get… crap, Parker took the keys to the Porsche!" Putting on a big smile, Cherry turned to look up at Pickles, "How'd ya get here, hon?"

Pickles laughed, holding her around the shoulder as he tucked her underneath his arm. Cherry blushed a little, their situation didn't really warrant any physical contact just yet. "Get your helmet. I brought the bike you gave me." She stiffened a little from shock, "Yeah, I still kept it…"

---

The two settled on the couch of her large suite with a bag of chips and cokes. The TV was left on the news channel and the volume set low, just so things didn't get uncomfortable if Cherry and Pickles fell into silence. A blanket had been placed over their laps as they sat side by side, Cherry once again tucked under his arm.

"…it was only for that year. My sister convinced me ta join, I didn't think I would actually make it. Bein' a cheerleader is… hard." Cherry chuckled a bit as she snuggled closer to the man beside her. "Damn, as a former DCC, I gotta hand it to them, they're not all ditzy and crap, some or nice while others are… damn, Satan incarnate."

Pickles grinned, "Wow, I gotta see pictures." There was again, a short pause before Pickles sighed, "Cherry… why'd you leave me?" he stared down at their intertwined hands, a bit scared to know the truth, but he needed to know. His right hand held her right, the back of her hand resting on the middle of his chest.

Lazily drawing circles on his stomach with her free hand, Cherry heaved a big sigh, trying to collect her thoughts. Pickles didn't mind waiting, so long as she told him what he wanted and needed to hear. The thought had always haunted him.

"Well…" she began, unsure of herself, "After… after what happened back at the concert, all of us were… scared ya know. For ourselves, for Mo'ra, for… you. When Mo'ra finally came back she uh… she made a point that none of us could refuse. Don't blame her please; she did it thinking about you and us…"

--Flash Back—

Moira sat in the middle of all her friends, dead serious to make them understand her train of thought. It was their choice to go through with it or not in the end, but she knew someone was going to get hurt. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she began. This totaally went back on what Ofdensen had said. They _needed_ to know.

"I know that… over the years I've been acting like a, uh… a real bitch and because of it, I probably did this to us. Cherry," Moira looked at her drummer, eyes shimmering with tears that threatened to fall but never did. "I am so, so sorry you and Pickles lost your baby. But… while I was 'away' I," she took another breath, placing her hand over her heart that thundered in her chest, "I've come to realize that yes, I have strong feelings for Nathan Explosion but also, Van Winkler wasn't the one to orchestrate the attacks. It was someone close to us, suppose to protect us." She bit her lower lip.

"Whaddya mean?" Cherry said, cocking her head to the side.

It was now or never, "Andy. He betrayed us in order to get to Dethklok." The girls gasped.

"Buts… why?" Lucy said in a small voice, her eyes widen in horror, "He was likes… fad-ders to us alls."

"I know," Moira whispered, "But his greed and jealousy were far greater than his love for us. As you know, Javier escaped. With him is Andy. If we stay together, they'll come back to get us. We're too close to Dethklok… fuck, two of you are engaged! So I have a request."

Bloodyfist ran a hand through her hair, "What would that be?" she asked, glancing at the petite woman who was now holding her head in her hands.

"Let's break up and leave." The room fell into silence. The only sounds were their shallow breathing and the ticking of the clock. Moira pressed on before she could be interrupted. "Think about it," she started off saying, "What better way to get to them then through us? Undertakers were formed mainly to take us down because we were a threat to them. With us being in love with Dethklok, Munkittrick and Van Winkler would somehow try to get us, maybe even kill us. Because Nathan cares for me, Javier wants him dead. Most likely he wants the same with the others."

Lucy was sobbing, "No… it's not trues!"

Moira heart reached out to the poor young woman who clutched her ring, a symbol of Toki's adoration for her. Cherry did her best to comfort the Ukrainian guitarist by allowing her to weep onto her chest; however the drummer seemed to be in a daze. "Lucy… it's the only way to keep them safe. If we're gone Van Winkler will have no reason to go after them. Munkittrick just wants their money anyway possible. It's up to you though, if you're willing to do this with me. We'd be protecting them by keeping away from them and each other. With Cancerous no more, Dethklok is safe." She wrung her hands nervously, watching her fingers constrict around one another instead at the shell shocked women. "At least… that's what I think sounds logical. I don't see any other way."

Runa was the first to speak. "I goes den. If it would keeps Skwisgaar safes, den I's does it. For him and our baby." There was a collective gasp, even Lucy quieted down long enough to hear the rest of her fellow guitarist talk, "He… doesn'ts know. After hearings what Moira's has to says, I think it is da bests dat we forgets abouts dem. Dere life style… can we raise families like dis if we has to fears for each others' lives?" It was a valid point that had Lucy drying her tears and Cherry looking up, trying hard not to let her tears fall.

Bloodyfist groaned, covering her eyes with her hands as she sat cross legged on the floor. "In a weird way, it does make sense. What if they go on a search for us though?" She looked up, her lime green eyes glazed over with hurt.

"I already talked to Ofdensen and Crozier. After we announce our disbanding, Ofdensen will issue out a local ban on anything that has to with us from then on. General Crozier will send bodyguards for the time being as we go to where ever we want. I already know I'm going to Russia." Moira turned her head, facing a wall as she frowned, "I do care for Nathan… a lot, but I owe Ivan so much as well. Crozier pointed out that since I'm the leader, I'm the prime target. I'll be safer with Ivan than anywhere else; I really don't plan on going into hiding, just start over." She sighed, placing her fingers on her lips.

Runa rested a hand on her shoulder, trying her best to reassure her friend and leader, "It's all rights Moiras. We ares goings to be fines. I trusts you to respects your judgments, and it makes senses. Right every bodies?" After a short pause that lasted for a second of two, the others nodded and smiled sadly. "If you hurts… we hurts too."

Moira finally broke down and wept, which strangely didn't surprise anyone even though they never witness such a thing. In broken sobs, Moira thanked every one of them and apologized profusely for ruining what they had.

---End Flash Back---

The drummers remained quite as Pickles tried to grasp the concept, except for the Runa and her baby which Cherry left out purposely. The act was both selfish and selfless. It was noble how the five women put the safety of Dethklok before themselves when they were the ones first targeted, yet selfish that they didn't bother to even tell Dethklok, leaving the men hurt and confused for a very long time.

Pickles took hold of Cherry's chin and lifted it up, staring straight into her eyes with such a serious expression, Cherry felt there was no turning back. No doubt he was furious, hurt and what love he might have had for her was probably gone. Or so she thought. Her eyes widen as he slowly leaned into her, his lips brushing against hers.

"Stupid." He said with a hint of amusement. Before the drummer gone racer could say anything, whether it be an apology or retort, Pickles crashed his lips against her mouth, suddenly drugged with need and affection. With clumsy moves and giggles, he was able to lay her down fully on the couch as he rested above her, his lower half in between her legs. One of his hands slowly trailed up her tank, his fingers tickling her.

"No… stop! It tickles!" Cherry laughed, squirming a little, but she made no move to stop him.

Pickles eyes softened, "I have… just one question." He stopped at Cherry nodded for him to continue, "Do you still love me?"

A genuine smile graced her features as she brought her arms up to wrap around his neck, "I never stopped lovin' you. You were and are the best thang that's ever happened ta me besides the band. With Cancerous gone, yer all that I have, if you'll take me back." Fear flashed in her eyes.

That was all he needed to here as he continued to massage the hot flesh belonging to the woman beneath him. Sliding his hand underneath her strapless bra, he gave the mound a soft squeeze. "Cherry… I'm fucking pissed off about what you did, but I'm willing to forgive you and start over. Like Toki said a long time ago, there is more to you then what we expected. Perhaps we rushed things?" His thumb flicked over her hardening nipple. Cherry let out a low moan.

"Maybe we did. But please tell me we're not startin' from square one." She pleaded childishly as she arched up, her pelvis bumping into his. "Else I'm gonna wonder if you don't love me." She playfully pouted up at him. Pickles chuckled, and then dipped his head to nip at her bottom lip.

"I'm always going to love you."

---

Pickles spent the next few days hanging out in Daytona with Cherry when she wasn't on the track. He was tempted to withdraw his sponsorship from Jimmie Johnson but the female racer refused to let it happen. In the last five years, Pickles finally found his happy place again. Each night the two retaught themselves about each other's body, tenderly loving each other despite the urge to just release their pent up desire.

The fourth day had come and it was Pickles time to leave. Giving her a sweet kiss goodbye and a hug, he ran his hand through her hair. "I wish you could come home with me." He whispered while his eyes bore into hers.

The Texan woman shrugged, "Me too, but I gotta work. Promise you'll come visit?"

"I will."

"Good. And here." She handed him a case about the size of two regular sized shoe boxes, "I called Ofdensen when ya weren't around. He ain't happy about it, since nothin's come up about Undertakers, Munkittrick or Van Winkler. He's says it probably fine if we uh… get together again. In here are a few articles 'bout the girls as well some letters to them… just in case this happened." She scowled a little, "I didn't put anythin' about Mo'ra's or Rune's predicament, so if the boys decide they wanna find 'em, give 'em a warnin, ok?" With that she kissed his cheek, "It was nice seein' you again, Pickles. This time we'll make it work."

Pickles mounted his bike and leaned on the bars, looking up at Cherry as her black knee length sundress rustled in the ocean breeze, her hair up in a bun. The two secured the box behind Pickle's seat with rope. It would be good until he got to the airport. "Yeah, we are. I'll call ya when I get done explaining things to them, just in case you have to warn the girls if things are as bad as I think." The two chuckled at that. Putting on his helmet, Pickles started his bike and drove away.

--Elsewhere---

A man grunted as he got up from his bed as his phone vibrated continuously on his night stand. Checking the caller ID, the man rubbed his bare chest and answered. "Do you have any idea what time it is over here?" he stifled a yawn. Looking at the digital clock, his raised a brow. It read 3:15 AM.

"I know, but this couldn't wait for another three hours. There was contact between them." the voice on the other end said, "Pickles ran into Cherry in Florida. They seem to have got along and no doubt he'll tell the others. I just wanted you to know so you could probably prepare your wife."

The man chuckled, "Ah, I see. Thank you Ofdensen for your concern." Looking over his shoulder at the naked back of a black haired woman, he grinned, "But I doubt he would come looking for her. The man is full of stubborn pride."

Ofdensen sighed on the other line, "Ivan… you never know what he will do. He's unpredictable nowadays. I already told General Crozier, so he may drop by in a few days to check up on her."

Ivan rolled his eyes, "Very well. Have a nice day Ofdensen; I will speak to you some other time to discuss business. I thank you for your concern about my wife." With that he hung up. He was about to lay back down but jumped a little as two slender arms wrapped around his torso.

"Mmm, who was that?" the Russian speaking woman said in a sleepy voice. Ivan smiled and turned his head, planting a kiss on her temple.

"No one really. Just a business associate out of the country. Go back to sleep, you have a photo shoot in the mor...ning." he groaned as the petite woman ran her hands down to caress the appendage between his leg. Golden eyes danced with mischief as the woman grinned.

"But I'm feeling a bit… restless." She squeaked as Ivan pounced on her, straddling her naked body as hunger clouded his eyes.

"You're such a damn tease. But I suppose that's one of the reasons why I love you, Moira." He bent his head to capture her lips in a passionate kiss that took her breath away.

* * *

Hmm… It was… hard starting this chapter, but at least I got the ball rolling!

Thank you everyone for your support on Cancerousklok. If you haven't reviewed the last chapter(s), please do! I want to know your thoughts about it on there and not here. This is Reunionklok, so I only want reviews about it here. I don't want to get confused because (a.) I'm stupid, (b.) Since I take a shit load of medication because of my 'incident', I'm all fucked up in the head as it is, (c.) it makes it easier for me and (d.) did I mentioned that I was stupid?

Important Note: Because I am stupid, I'm going to probably take a good chunk of Cancerousklok down to do some tweaks and edit it so my retarded errors are abolished sometime after my birthday in March. It breaks my heart because I literally did finish on New Year's Eve, but I don't want people reading it until it's completely done. Bummer… I'll warn you about any major changes here, or you could just re-read it in all its glory :D Hell, re-review if you can. Makes me happy. I will not erase my author's notes on there though :) I'm weird that way.

So for now, please enjoy part two of Cancerousklok II: Reunion. Oh yes! I know nothing about NASCAR, its racers, and crap like that, so bare with me on all that XD If anyone can explain it to me, please do. I don't watch it because the first and last time I did; Dale Earnhardt Sr. crashed and died. So I think I gave him bad luck or something… ;-;


	2. Time Will Tell

Oh… my… god. It's been like what… a week? I am so exhausted from school and work, so it's a mystery how I summoned enough energy to make this chapter. My goal is finish just before summer, and I'm gonna guess this fic is going to also be just under 30 chapters as well. Dunno if I'm gonna meet my deadline however. I was dumped more hours which yay more money but nay since it cuts more into my personal/social time. Sunday is my day of rest, fuck church, I'll bitch like a baby if I have to avoid going.

Track of Choice: "Psychobitches Outta Hell" by the HorrorPops

* * *

Chapter 2: Time will Tell

Pickles burst into the rec room with a large smile on his face and a skip in his walk as he carried an odd box under his arm. The cheery attitude of the drummer was completely different then the sulky atmosphere surrounding his fellow band members as they continued to have a marathon of gore horror movies. Skwisgaar's lips puckered slightly, whether it was from thinking or the lemon drop he had, no one knew or cared.

"What's dis? Why sos happies?" Arching a delicate brow, Skwisgaar returned his attention to the large screen mounted on the wall. "Good lays, ja?"

Pickles laughed sheepishly, "Uh, I guess you could say that." Grabbing the remote from beside Nathan's arm on the arm rest, he turned off the TV, much to the protest of the others while he stood in front of them.

"What the fuck? It was getting good!" Nathan hissed, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes while he downed the last of his coffee.

Pickles sighed, shaking his head and presented them the box. "So…" he began, "You know how I ended up sponsoring Jimmie Johnson in NASCAR, right? Well, I went over to go meet the guy and while everything was just peachy, guess who I ran into?" everyone grumbled, too tired to even think. Taking a deep breath and trying to fight down the still growing smile, Pickles continued, "I thought I'd have a heart attack, I mean, it's only been five years since I last… saw… _Cherry." _Silence.

That caught their attention. As if they were a bunch of school girls, they perked up and stared at him with wide eyes, pleading silently for him to continue. Like Pickles, most of them had gave up _hating_ Cancerous and just want answers to hopefully ease the pain and confusion. Nathan was perhaps the only exception as his eyes darkened, his frown deeper. Folding his massive arms, he sank into the sofa and scowled some more.

Pickles practically squealed, "It was really weird, but totally awesome at the same time. Dood… she's racing in NASCAR! Hot damn. So, the reason I took forever to get back was because me and her pretty much caught up on a few things. Found out what the hell happened when they left, why they left, and shit like that." A goofy grin slid onto his mouth, "Shit, I still love that woman." Then he snapped back into reality, "Anyway… apparently Ofdensen's been censoring shit about them so that's why we haven't heard about what's been _really_ going on in the outside world. So, Cherry pretty much made this for you to catch you all up."

Murderface was the first grab it and open the container, marveling at the thick folders with each of the girls' name on it. The bassist grabbed Bloodyfists' file, opening up to a neat pile of news paper clipping and magazine articles. Pickles, for a brief moment, wondered if Cherry was hit with a case OCD. How much free time did she have? Was she anticipating this? Whatever it was, he chuckled. Toki reluctantly grabbed the file about Lucy. Opening to the first clipping, his eyes flew open.

"Wowee! She… she changes. But den agains, not." A small blush crept to his cheeks as he stared at the cover of some French magazine. Lucy's hair was teased with a black rose hair clip on the side. It was a torso shot, but Toki could easily see her once innocent, childlike way of dressing was gone, replaced by sexier clothes. She was wearing a pin stripped bustier, showing an excessive amount of cleavage which attention was easily drawn to by a large gothic crucifix. Her hands were in her hair as she stared at him with eyes that held the same childish innocence though the smirk on her blood red lips was teasing and spoke of other things. What happened?

Murderface sat there like a fish out of water between the Scandinavian duo. In his hand was a CD from Ovary Override, on the cover was a much slimmer Bloodyfist dressed in a black strapless dress that reached just above her knees and flaming red pumps while she held a black double bass in front of her. Some kind of tattoo adorned her arm, but he couldn't make it out at the angle the arm was in. Turning it around, he read the song titles and whistled.

"She… she did it. She made Ovary Override happen. No way." He was in complete awe. Picking up a clipping a music charts from the month before, two of the songs from her band made it to number one and two. Stapled to that were weekly ones, and adding to his amazement, the same songs appeared for eight weeks straight before number two dropped to four.

Skwisgaar practically had a nose bleed as he stared wide eyes at Runa's picture, taken from a Finnish lingerie catalog. The erotic pose and attire showed off smooth pale skin, though the scar on her hip and arm could be seen just faintly if one stared hard enough. Runa was truly a sight for sore eyes. She should have been the center fold of Playboy. Then the thought made him want to punch any and every man that dare fantasize about her.

The only one not part taking in the small festivities was Nathan. He glared at them all, not bothering to reach over and grab the taunting manila folder with Moira's name on it. Memories… they were just bad memories. The Necklace of Diamonds he kept hidden in his room was bad enough, he didn't need to see her face or find out what she had been up to for half a decade. Most likely she was successful again since she was so head strong and stubborn. He knew something was off right after the announcement of their disbandment. Of course it would cause a stir in the media, but nothing happened after that. It was weird, yet he didn't bother to question it. In fact, Nathan could say he was glad about it.

"Lucy lives in France? Wowee, she be DJ, and ones of da bests ones toos!" Toki couldn't help but smile. Looking up at the drummer who was still smiling at the excited and simple minded trio, curiosity got the better of him. "Pickle. What dids Cherries says about dem leavings?" Nathan shot up out of his seat and stormed out of the room, the others watching as their happy bubble burst. "Natan's still nots overs it, is hes?"

Skwisgaar shook his head, "So it looks likes. He always has sticks up his ass." Picking up an article with the woman and her father, the guitarist raised a brow, "So she works with her fathers now, huh?" a small smile graced his lips, "I forgets how much I misses her."

Their drummer clapped his hands, "Oh! Which totally reminds me, somewhere in that box are letters from the girls, read those and get back to me, ok? Cherry said they should clear up a few things. I'm gonna go now, there are a few things I have to ask Ofdensen. See ya." With a wave, he was out of the room.

The three remaining musicians shrugged and continued to rummage through the files and such, comparing 'notes' and thanking Cherry for making such informative packets. OCD most likely was the cause or she was bored as hell one night, yet it was helpful to catch up on what they had been missing all this time. Toki found the letter Pickles was talking about and opened his, a bit nervous to read the neat writing from his ex fiancé.

_Dear Toki,_

_I'm sorry it has come to this, but there was no other way to keep you all safe. As Moira pointed out, there is too much already going on with your lives and adding us will only make things harder. It was nice of Ofdensen to help us, even if it was a trap in the end. Just know that I love you Toki, and I always will. And because I care so much about you, I have to leave and prevent any harm from happening. The concert will always be a sad reminder that there are people who hate us for being as big and in love with you…_

The more he read the more he became depress again. Murderface and Skwisgaar were also reading their letters, finding the things absurd but otherwise gut wrenching at the same time. They left to protect them?

…_Murderface, I can say I'm sorry hundred times, a thousand times, or a million, but I'm ok if you hate me forever. I really do hope for the best for you and Planet Piss. You can do it, though I don't know if you'll ever get this. Since Cherry will live the closest to you all, she will be keeping this for safe keeping while I go back to San Diego, California and find out what happened to my family, maybe jump start Ovary Override and go back into wrestling…_

"Shan Diego, huh?" he said to himself, looking up from his letter, "Shit, that'sh far."

"Tells mes bouts it. Runa wents back to Finland." Skwisgaar said, not taking his eyes off the piece of white paper. He frowned a little as he continued on reading the foreign writing only he and Toki could understand.

_Skwsigaar, I will always feel awful about what happened. But I will not be alone, I will always have something to remind me of what we had and could have had in the future. Simple words cannot describe how I feel right now, but just know that although I feel bad, I will not regret _our_ decision. Most likely by the time you get this letter, Ofdensen will have probably lifted the ban that discusses us presently. There is so much we need to discuss, and even if you just want to yell at me, I will be moving back with my father in Finland._

_Yours Always,  
Runa Hathor-Skwisgelf_

"Reminders? But… dey left everytings we gots dem here. And we not takes pictures but dose concerts ones, yet deys were left in Yakov's home." Skwisgaar rubbed his cheek, "I tinks I go makes trips and surprises her. Dere's notings to does anyways here. Just sits around and watch movies." The sound of ripping paper made him look up and both he and Toki glared at Murderface.

"What? There wasch a rip!" He said, holding the envelop with Nathan's name written on it in neat cursive. "Show now that it'sh open, let'sh read it." Asshole strikes again.

_Nathan,_

_Fate seems cruel and I don't expect you to ever forgive me for what my band and I have done. Knowing you, you're probably traumatized as hell and on an anti-Moira, even Cancerous, spree _(They all had to laugh at that. It was true)._ As the girls have explained to their significant other through their letters, we didn't do this to be mean and break your hearts intentionally. We left because there was no other way to protect you. You remember what Javier said before he pulled the trigger. Your feelings for me, for us, puts you at a greater risk of Revengencers AND Undertakers attacking you in the future. I took the bullets because I know now that I did love you then, and probably now though I don't know how many months or years will go by before Ofdensen yields. I've asked him to keep us hidden from you all, just so you won't come for us and stir up Munkittrick and Van Winkler. I will not allow myself or the girls to be used as targets to get to you. You hating us is the best thing we can hope for, because then it will show those two that they have nothing to gain and if all goes well, they'll leave us alone to carry on with our lives. Just please, be careful. I'm sure that if I were to have brought the subject up with you, there may have been a better alternative, but time was wasting and I needed out, taking the girls with me. Tell the other guys I'm sorry. I know Munkittrick is still determined to finish what he started. Good luck, be safe._

_Moira_

They sat in silence, almost not believing that she openly admitted to loving him. Perhaps if Nathan did actually read it, he would be his old self again, which was less of a dick and more fun to be around. Pickles seemed eager to make things work again with Cherry, which the Wisconsin native was normally the type to screw and forget but still hold a grudge if that made any sense. Even with his heart on the line again, and possibly his sanity, they could always rely on him to make the first move and base their judgment from there.

"Too bad she didn't schay where she went. Back home?" Murderface folded the paper and stuffed it back into the envelope. The other two shrugged.

---

Pickles sat on a chair facing Charles, a serious expression on his face. "Why did you agree to do it then? You knew they meant a lot to us, and them leaving was perhaps one of the hardest things we ever had to go through aside from that case of serious depression. Nathan's really fucked up in the head you know. Bring them back." He leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees.

Ofdensen shook his head, "No. Cherry said it was probably time to 'stop hiding in the dark', yet it's still too dangerous to even let Cancerous regroup. Javier was never found, and with Andrew Munkittrick being the ones to have been pulling the strings in the first place, I will not risk another home invasion or putting the girls in danger." Taking out his note book from his breast pocket and a pen, he began to jot down a few things, "The best I can do if they _want_ to reacquaint themselves with the girls is to schedule supervised visits periodically, and see what happens. Though I strongly recommend Skwisgaar brace himself."

Pickles arched a double pierced brow, "Huh? We're not fucking kids. Yeah, I understand that nobody knows Cherry is that CC Woodrow so it's gonna cause an uproar in the media if and when word gets out, but damn." His heart skipped a beat. If Cherry's identity was revealed when he was with her, would the former leaders of the Undertakers come out of hiding? She had mentioned that Moira said they were bait, the main reason why they just up and left. "Why would he have to worry though?"

Mentioned man stumbled into the room, panting wildly, "Hah… hah… Tickets. Finlands. Now!" he placed his hands on his knees, "Ah… been long times since I runs across dis place." Toki was the next to show up, also requesting to go to France. Murderface then came, red faced and about to faint when he asked for a ride to San Diego. Perhaps racing was not the smartest thing to do when they were tired and out of shape. Maybe they should get a trainer and actually _use _the gym.

Ofdensen resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he made a note to purchase private jets for each of them when they decided to _not_ travel together. Some other time though. "Will Nathan be going to Europe?" Since most of them were there any way, he reached into his drawer and pulled out the envelop Moira had given him on the day she left. He knew about the individual letters, but the tape inside broke down everything the vocalist had decided and why.

"Nose." Toki said, "Is dat where Moiras is?"

"Yes… though he'll need to come with me to check up on Dethklok Russia either way. Korshunova is unable to handle the matter entirely at the moment due to personal reasons." He wasn't looking forward to going with the front man, but no one could leave him alone. The CFO had no choice but to take him along. "Very well. All of you will be escorted to your destinations by the end of the week along with some bodyguards. Try to stay out of trouble." An impossible dream however.

"What'sch that in your hand?" Murderface asked, pointing to the package he was taking out.

Ofdensen said nothing as he set it up, inserting the tape into the recorder and pushing play button before getting up and dusting off his sleeves. "A message from Moira."

They all stared as her voice filled the room, sounding exhausted and confused. The tape lasted no more than fifteen minutes, but the amount of information they were bombarded with left the four wide eyed and in disbelief. The whole time Cancerous' manager had been the enemy? It was messed up to think about it. She sniffled here and there through the tape, making them wonder if she was crying or getting sick. "_I'm really sorry eveyone, I know this ruins what we have, but we don't want to burden you or Ofdensen anymore. Times are rough these days. When the time comes that you want to start over, I'm sure the girls will be more then willing."_

Everyone jumped as Nathan slammed the stop button, scowling down at the offensive piece of technology."Who gives a fuck?" he said more to himself then the others. "They didn't have to leave." Turning his attention to his band mates, he cocked a brow and glared, "Ofdensen said you're all leaving. Is that true? Going to forgive them just like that?" His fists clenched tightly, turning is knuckles white as he surpressed the urge to punch something or someone. Her voice had sent shivers down his spine.

Pickles rolled his eyes as Toki spoke up, "Why nots? Dey weres tryings to protects us. May not has been da bests way, yet doesn'ts dat shows how much dey did cares?" staring straight into Nathan's cold and unforgiving eyes, he spoke what was on his mind. "Are you scareds to finds out dat Moira moves on withouts you?"

The dark aura that surrounded Nathan intensified, causing the other men to take cautious steps back. It must have been a new trend to stand beyond his reach. Had it been anyone else, Nathan would have lashed out and beat the crap out of them, but with Toki… it was different. The younger member of Dethklok had an inner beast that could probably do more damage to him when provoked. No one would have known that inner demon existed had it not been for the Ricky Kixx concert and the attack in Russia. He was not a force to reckon with when he went beyond his breaking point.

Backing down, Nathan turned on his heels and stalked out of the room, slamming the door with all his might, it rattled the lamps in the room. Skwisgaar frowned, crossing his arms over his chest while he sat in deep thought.

"He's doings it agains. Beings cries babies with sticks ups his ass." This caused him to heave a giant sigh of frustration, "He has more moods swings den ladies on her times of de months."

"Sheriously. Shometimesch I have to wonder why he hatesch Moira show much." Murderface shrugged, ""It'sh been schuh a long time."

Pickles rubbed his beard, "I dunno. I can't really blame him. Ever noticed that every girl he likes totally leaves him in a messed up way? Guess he really had a thing for her. Cherry said they did the deed, but he woke up alone and then found out they ran away. Doesn't matter who you are, it gonna hurt." He focused his gaze outside the window, watching the sun trying to make itself known from behind the clouds, "If I ever get the chance, I'm going to ask her why." It was the least he could do. They were friends after all, if they admitted it or not. When one was done. one of them had to pick up the pieces and fix it some how. Cherry would more then likely help him.

---

Ofdensen was walking down the hallway, going through his extensive contact list before finally finding the number he needed and clicked the send button. Sighing, he turned on his bluetooth and waited.

"_Ofdensen, what brings you to call me again? We already made arrangements for your arrival later this week. Is something wrong?"_ Ivan's voice drifted from the ear piece in a professional manner. There were murmurs in the background.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

Ivan chuckled, _"No, I'm just waiting for Moira to meet me in the lobby of the opera house. You must come see her perform."_ There was a pause as he spoke in Russian, an air of annoyance came from the phone with the tone he used. _"Pardon me for that. So what warrants this call?"_

"It's Nathan." The CFO ran his hand through his hair, resisting the urge to sigh, "Dethklok want to meet the other girls, but Nathan has shown no interest. However, we know I can't leave him here alone in Mordhaus for a week." A klokateer approached him, silently handing him a clipboard with a piece of paper. Ofdensen stopped and read over the sheet, his raising a brow as he went through the information. Once again they were invited to the United States Pornography Awards. Quickly signing and checking the denied box, he handed it back to the employee. This time he would not make the mistake of telling them. Last time resulted in Rebecca Nightrod falling down a ridicuously long flight of stairs and go into a coma. Was she even dead yet?

"_I see where this could be a problem. From what you've told me, he's still… upset. Perhaps I can arrange a guide to show him around Moscow while he stays at a hotel?"_ The background noise got quiter, most likely the guests were leaving or he was going into a place with less people. _"Do you think that will work? I don't want to upset my wife in anyway."_

"It's the best thing we can do. I really don't want to imagine what will happen when Nathan finds out she's married to you, if he even finds out. He still harbors feelings for her. We can assume it won't be pleasant." In the background, Ofdensen could hear Moira greeting Ivan, "I'll call before we leave Friday. Good bye." Hanging up, he frowned. "A tour guide's not going to cut it."

---

"Who was that?" Moira asked, linking her arm with Ivan as they went outside to head for their limo. The air was refreshing, cooling her heated skin from the stage lights. Wearing a plain white spaghetti strap ankle length dress with a slit the left side, strappy rhinestone heels and a thick furry shawl with a diamond collar and matching earrings, all eyes were on her. Dozens of cameras flashes, capturing her image as she and her black uniform clad husband descended down the stairs like royalty, the Korshunovas' guards blocking the reporters from getting any closer. Ivan moved a stray strand of hair from her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek as he did so.

"Ofdensen called. He'll be coming to the banquet and assisting me in some matters of Dethklok Russia I am unable to do myself." Ivan said, allowing his wife into the limo before following her. Once they were situated across from one another, the Russian man carefully removed the heels and massaged her dainty feet. How she managed to stay in them for over two and a half hour was amazing. The women he could remember being with before he met Moira normally ditched them within half an hour. Why did women do that to themselves? It was a question men might have been asking for generations.

Moira groaned in gratification, "Is that so? It's been a while since I last saw him. Our wedding four years ago, I think." Sinking lower into the leather seat, she gave her husband a small smile, "Where are we going?"

Working on her shins, Ivan shrugged, "Crozier went on ahead to make sure our reservations weren't cancelled at _Duane's._ Even for us, it's a two month waiting period." Ivan returned her smile, his eyes softening. Only when he was alone with her did he let his guard down now. Other than that he was serious, hardly showing emotion since his recovery at the hospital several years ago. The perfect soldier was what he had to be to protect her. He would not make the same mistakes he had done back then. The imagine of her being bound and that beast doing horrible things to her because of his lack of concentration had haunted him for so long, it was amazing she even forgave him. And now they were happily married, at least in his mind they were. He did his best to prove his love for her at every chance he got. "You look beautiful by the way."

"Thank you." Looking out the tinted window, she sighed, "How's…" her voice trailed, eyes darkening with mixed emotions. Anger and sadness flashed past her golden irises, but it could have been the street lights that caused the effect.

"Nathan?" he finished, carefully putting her leg down so she could cross them, baring more of her hip in the process. "The same as usual. Bitter." He was aware of what had happened between them and as much as he hated to admit it, there was still a part of Moira that loved the brute. He saw it in her eyes every time she saw his picture or someone mentioned his name. Ofdensen knew it as well. That was why he sometimes questioned their marriage, but he didn't want to breach the matter. He could have been over analyzing it.

The woman frowned, "And the others?" When he didn't respond, Moira turned to face her husband. "Is something wrong with him?"

The military man sighed, his shoulders slumping a little as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes down cast. "There was… interaction between Cherry and Pickles. Now that the others know your friends are successful, they want to meet them. However, Nathan," Ivan got up to sit next to his wife of four years, allowing her to rest her head against his strong arm, "doesn't seem too excited. You have nothing to fear." He moved his arm, tucking her against his side as he pressed a kiss on her temple.

Moira sighed, wrapping her arms around his narrow waist, the thick clothes concealing his fit body from her touch, "That's not it. I don't even know why I asked. What happened, happened and he hates me. Nothing to it. I have you, so I'm happy." She leaned up to nuzzle under his chin and kiss him that reassured him she did love him somehow, "I don't expect him to find me now that the others are going to see each other again. It wouldn't be like him." The limo began to slow as they saw the five star fancy restaurant coming up. Moira bent down to put her shoes back on. "Not at all."

--A few days later--

Skwisgaar gulped as he looked at the address where Runa was supposedly living at. It was their last night in Mordhaus before they all left to find their past lovers. Maybe not so much for Murderface or Nathan, but still. Looking back at the more modest picture of the Finnish woman, his heart fluttered. Since the day she left he was unable to really go back to the gmilf. His attachment to the much younger woman could not be shaken and slowly Skwisgaar left the life of whoring around with women old enough to still be his grandmother. it wasn't fair to them, to Runa and to himself.

Packing a few things into his luggage, he sighed. The poor Swede was nervous beyond anything. Nervous to find her not wanting him, nervous to discover she moved on, nervous to see if she changed. Their time apart had been rather extensive, and within that frame he had changed, maybe for the better now that he thought about it. He had planned to surprised her and drop in out of the blue. There would be no time for her to hide away her secrets if he did so, whether or not it would hurt him in the end.

Music was blaring down the hall from Murderface's room. He had to crack a grin as Bloodyfist's voice echoed, different, and dare he say, _womanly_. The different genre of music was actually pretty catchy and her obviously playing the monstrous thing known as the double bass was very good. The instrument had been as big as her from what he could remember. A shame she left the new one Murderface had got her, which the bass player took it back because none of them knew how to use it. To even hold it up was awkward since it practically had to rest on your being. Of course the brown haired woman was used to it since she did infact play the cello with her friends.

_They're all heart breakers  
That loves to be house wreckers  
Don't give a damn about your rebel yell  
Ps-ps-psycho bitches outta hell_

His phone went off. Digging under the pile of clothes, he found it and answered. "Ja?"

"Your flight leaves tonight. Someone will pick you up and take you to Ms. Hathor's home." Ofdensen said.

"Ah, tanks you. I's done packings." Turning off his phone, he went to lay down on his bed, staring up at his ceiling as he gnawed on his lower lip. This was it, the time was approaching.

---

Nathan sat on his bed, one of his large arms tucked underneath his bed as he held up the Necklace of Diamonds up with the other, his usual frown in place. He wasn't too pleased at the fact he was being forced to go all the way to Russia with Ofdensen to see _him_. Sure, Ivan _was_ doing a great job with taking over the whole project of Dethklok Russia, totally redoing it so it was more efficient. But he just couldn't stand him.

His grip on the necklace tightened.

"What made you so damn special?" he said to himself, or perhaps he was imagining the necklace to be an extension of Moira's being. "It shouldn't bug me so much but it does. I don't even know where you are. Why am I even talking to myself?" he rolled his eyes at that, setting the piece of expensive jewelry down. He briefly wondered what Moira was up to. Where was she? Back home in Louisiana? Ofdensen really did do a phenomenal job of keeping them a secret, perhaps his best piece of work ever.

Speaking of which, he suddenly realized he had to pack, they were leaving first thing in the morning. Rolling out of bed, he shuffled over to his closet and pulled out his luggage then practically ransacked his closet and drawers. This time he would not make the mistake of forgetting to pack warm clothes. Looking at the suit hanging, he debated on whether or not to take it.

"Ofdensen did mention something about a benefit dinner… hmm… maybe." Carefully he took it down and folded it into the suitcase, mindful to not leave anymore wrinkles then necessary. Twenty minutes later, the last to be packed beside his toiletries was the necklace. He growled at his attachment to it yet he couldn't bear to leave it behind.

---

While Skwisgaar had boarded the plane the night before, Ofdensen, Nathan and Toki hopped on a morning flight. Murderface and Pickles watched them leave in the limo just to make it less conspicuous. Later the two would be taken via Murderbus to go to their respectful other. Pickles was already doing a happy dance while the bass player felt sick to his stomach.

* * *

**Gremlin**: It's nice to hear from you! Yeah, I'm crazy but oh well. I managed to survive my first week at least. I'm scared to read Xixthe's story too. Someone tell me if what whoever it was in _Cancerousklok _said is true. Please?

**Angela**: I. Love. Twists. Apparently in the end I totally loved Ivan's roll and what better way for him to come back then to make him Moira's hubby? He did say he would make her his after all.

**Dragonz**: *huggles* I'm happy that _you're_ happy. Lol. How funny. I will hopefully understand NASCAR someday, so don't worry about it. I just won't watch it… I'm afraid someone else will die. Thank god for the internet.

**Lyra**: You do that. I hope you like _Cancerousklok_! Though it seems you didn't finish before this update, tee hee.

**Livia**: Oh my… you really don't like Ivan, huh? Lol. :) Stay tune for next time to see if Runa did keep their baby. Dun, dun, dun! How will Skwisgaar react??

Chap 3 in the making right now. Might be up sometime on Wednesday I hope, but not positive. The rest of you out there: **REVIEW PLEASE! I NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!! **Don't break my heart! I'm a review whore, lol. It lets me know what you think and the likes. I'm not big on flames if you gotta, you gotta. It at least tells me whether or not it's going pretty good... To be honest, I don't really have a story line just yet, but it'll hit me probably within the next few chapters, just like _Cancerousklok._


	3. Together at Last

Up a day early! Hurray!

Tell your buddies about meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I want some new reviewers please. And why hasn't **Wild Okapi** and the many others who reviewed/fav'ed _Cancerousklok _not review the last chapters? :( You makin' me sad. Also, writing Metalocalypse fics is a brutal thing. :O Looking at the stories, there aren't many fics with over 75 reviews. I know a fic with barely 36 chaps and so far it has over 3000 reviews! Wow... I feel special with _Cancerousklok!_

Track of Choice: "Crawl Straight Home" by The HorrorPops

* * *

Chapter 3: Together at Last

--Paris, France—

Toki looked around the crowded street, bumping into dozens of tourists and residence on his quest look for the elusive Lucy Peacetong, Cancerous' former rhythm guitarist as well as other things. Behind him was group of three klokateers, sent with him to prevent the Norwegian from getting lost or ambushed by any rabid fans or threats. Sighing, Toki made a left at some bakery where the scent of fresh baguettes were being sold. It was mouth watering, but the candy store two shops down was more appealing. He made a bee line for the sweets.

The different aromas of sweets called to his taste buds as he looked around, his eyes wide in adoration. A pity he had to buy the sugary goodness, but it would be worth it. With eight thousand Euros in his pocket, there was nothing to stop Toki Wartooth from buying his way into another diabetic coma. His guards stayed by the entrance, watching the customers going in and out. The French people didn't seem to care that _the_ Toki Wartooth of Dethklok was currently browsing inside a small candy store. They were used to seeing the rich and famous in Paris.

Spotting the last six pack of lollipops, he went to seize them but someone grabbed onto them. Toki yanked at his end, but the obvious female hand didn't let go as she tugged back. Toki growled, clenching his teeth as he gave another jerk. Again, the woman held the delicious colorful globes on sticks in an iron grip. A game of tug-of-war began between the famous guitarist and the mysterious woman with a hood covering her face.

"_Let go!"_ the woman snarled in French, literally trying to shake his grasp off.

"I's not lets go!" Toki wailed, not knowing he made a retort against her words, standing astride to get better leverage as he pulled up, smirking at the difference in heights. Just a little more and she would either have to let go or press up against him. Sadly he didn't anticipate her to kick him in the shin with a pointed boot when the klokateers weren't looking. "Ow! What's da hells?"

Unfortunately his grip slacked and the vicious mystery woman was able to wrench the yummy sweets from his fingers. As she gave a cry of glee and him a whine of defeat, she laughed. The two never got a good look at one another's face, so she removed her hood and both gasped in recognition. Blue clashed with blue, curly brown hair framing her delicate pale face as the person Toki was on a search for took a step back, clutching the lollipops to her bosoms.

"T-Toki?" Fright flashed in her eyes as she took a step back.

"Lucy?"

"Master are you alright?" one of the klokateers said as he came to investigate the yelp of pain. "Mistress Lucy, good to see you again." He gave a brief bow, going back to the others since it was only those two and not his boss against some rabid old woman.

"Why are you here?" The young man gawked; her horrible grammar was gone, replaced by understandable English with a slight accent. Not giving him time to answer, she bolted for the door, saying something to the clerk behind the register who simply nodded and said something in his native tongue. Did she just shoplift?

"Waits!" Very much like what Pickles had done when Cherry ran away from him, Toki went after Lucy, his backup right behind him. It was relatively hard to keep up with her as she wove through the crowd, her smaller frame having an easier time squeezing through everyone. "Lucy!"

Toki lost her as she made a left down an alley, literally vanishing into thin air. He gasped for air as he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath as he thought about the fear he had seen in her eyes back at the candy store. What was that about?

"Master." Another klokateer said, less winded then the others and Toki, "I do believe we are on the street that leads to Mistress Peacetong's dance club. Perhaps she there?"

"Maybe yous rights. She DJs… dere no way she cans not shows up." Toki stalked over to the front of the building and sure enough, they had been behind CLUB LUKI, the place Lucy owned and worked at. Looking at the growing line, it was only a matter of time before the doors would open. It was still relatively sunny for being seven in the evening, the poor Norwegian not used to the time change after being away from Europe for so long. How trippy.

Waiting in line, Toki made a plan to corner the woman and clear up a few things. He briefly wondered if the others were doing any better than him.

--Daytona, Florida: PxC—

"Ah, ah! Harder!" Cherry cried out as Pickles thrusted into her, his mouth ravishing her bouncing breasts. One hand held her waist while the other gripped the head board above her. He had arrived not even half an hour ago from the Murderbus and immediately the two had gone up to the female NASCAR driver's hotel room, tore their clothes off and began to make up for lost time. "Gawd… AH!" Her eyes screwed shut as she held Pickles' shoulder, her thighs gripping his waist harder.

"Ooh… Cherry… justa… justa lil'… ugh." With a final jerk, his seed spilled into her waiting womb where they knew nothing would happen. Pickles collapsed into her chest, panting hard as he held her around the waist. The two laid there, glowing in the after math of their sweet, sweet love making. Silly smiles planted themselves on their faces.

"Think we're rushin'?" Cherry said breathlessly, a chuckle escaping her throat and out her mouth. "I missed ya so much Pickles." She rubbed her hands up and down his head to his shoulder in a soothing manner. Pickles hummed, relaxing as he listened to her racing heart.

"Don't give a shit. Not when I'm with you." A jaw popping yawn left his mouth, the sheer force he used in their passion was more exerting than normal. There was something about her that made him go wild; losing almost all rational thought once he became one with her. Yes, there was no other who could make him feel this way. Cherry was the only one for him and heaven be damned if she tried to leave him again. They belonged together, and to prove to himself that this was really happening, he placed feathery kisses down her tummy, stroking her warm skin tenderly as she moaned in pleasure, yet both did not get excited enough to go for another round just yet.

"I wanna stay like this fer-eva." Cherry said drowsily, a content smile on her face, "So nice."

---San Diego, California---

Having been escorted via dethcopter instead of by bus to save time had only allowed Murderface a few hours to collect his thoughts. Unlike the others, he and Bloodyfist never went beyond anything then a mutual friendship. Sure, he liked her a lot, and despite him always trying to plot a way to get into pussy, he simply couldn't with the female bass player. Nothing about her was a turn off, not even her lack of feminine quality. It simply suited her just fine and dandy. Fear was what really kept him at bay. Fear of hurting her.

He sighed, slumping into his seat as he looked down at the room, mainly at the Jacuzzi. With no one around, it simply wasn't fun. Murderface was lonely… very lonely. The only thing right now keeping him company was the CD of Ovary Override.

_Tingling mind and too big a smile  
At least I got the room  
Spinning with me  
Trying hard to walk  
A straight line  
I think I lost my femininity  
Another shot  
Hey  
Tipsiness in affect_

"I missh the guysch." He said to himself, getting up and wandering around aimlessly. Since Cherry and Bloodyfist were the only ones left in the US, the former drummer had called up her long time friend to set up a 'lunch date' for Murderface. Yup, Pickles sure as hell snagged a good kind hearted woman. Beautiful inside and out. Going to his voicemail on his phone, he listened to Cherry's message.

"_Hey Murderface, long time no see! Stole yer number from Pickles when he was in the bathroom when he and I met up again. Anyway, I called Suzy n' she'll meet with you at --- on the corner of --- n' ---, don't be late. Woman's busy as hell with band practice n' wrestlin'. Have fun!"_

Noticing the helicopter starting to descend into an airport, his heart began to thunder in his chest. "Shit… what the hell do I shay?" He continued to think about what he was going to say or do even as he got into car that would take him to where it was he was going to meet the former metal bass player. Should he stop to get flowers?

"We have arrived, master." The klokateer driver said, "Mistress Bloodyfist is expecting you inside."

Taking a deep breath, Murderface got out of the car and went to the small hole in the wall diner Cherry had said he was suppose to meet her. Going inside, he looked around, hoping to spot her before she did. No such luck.

"Murderface!" squealed a woman as she came running at him in the middle of the sitting area. A blur of black assaulted him as the former bass player of Cancerous pounced on him, wrapping her toned arms around his neck. Out of reflex, he wrapped his arms around her waist as the two fell back on the couch behind him with an 'oof'. "No way!"

Dethklok's bassist just laid there, looking up at the very different Bloodyfist. Her eyes were the same, a lime green like his, but her hair was longer and healthier, blemishes on her skin vanished and her teeth were replaced by fake ones to cover the chips from her previous fighting endeavors. She was even slimmer, attractive and not like the woman who left him a long time ago. He nervously gulped, not sure of what to do. He certainly wasn't expecting this. She was so different then her pictures in the magazine and CD.

"Bloodyfisht?" he said uneasily, "Ish that really you? You look different!" he eyed her in the black blouse and capris, a bit of skin on her waist could be seen. Her hair, now reaching to the middle of her shoulder blades, was pulled back with two red hair clips on either side of her head. Bangles clattered on her when she rubbed her hands together.

The woman laughed, getting off him and lending him a hand so he could sit up properly. "Sure as hell it's me. Going back to wrestling tones the body, man." She lightly punched him in the arm, "How you been? When Cherry called, I was stoked. I cancelled practice and training for a week! Come on, let's eat then I'll show you around, ok?" She gave him a large ruby smile, making his heart skip a beat.

"OK… shure."

--Finland—

"I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this!" Skwisgaar chanted over and over again as he remained in the back seat of his escort car, glad to be able to speak in his first language now that the others weren't around. They were currently parked in front of a nice two story house close the outskirts of Oulu, Runa's childhood home. He was relieved to know her father had purchased a mansion in another city, thus leaving this house to Runa alone so he wouldn't have to face the man just yet.

Ten minutes had probably been wasted, the poor Swede trying to summon enough courage to just step out of the car. Finally, he managed to open the door and slowly exited it, a death grip on his guitar. He took timid steps up the small stoop, gulping as he reached for the knocker on the immense red door. His hand froze as he heard voices from the inside.

Pressing his ear against the door, he tried to make out the sounds, not realizing he had actually moved the knocker until he heard the thud over his head. Skwisgaar jumped. The voices hushed and Skwisgaar felt like he was about to go into cardiac arrest when a rather young and good looking dark haired guy opened the door, staring at the world's fastest guitar player eye to eye, brown clashing with blue.

"Is… Runa Ha-hathor in?" he said nervously. Who was this man? The man didn't respond as a small brown haired child poked her head from behind his leg. The Sweden guitarist felt his heart stop. He hope it wasn't what he thought she was.

"Papa, whose dis?" she looked up at him, her wide brown eyes glittering with childish curiosity. "Is he here to see mom?"

Skwisgaar stood their gaping like a fish, his eyes wide. "Natsia. Grab your coat, we're leaving." The mysterious man said as he smiled down at the child. Looking back up he raised a questioning brow. "What business do you have with Runa?"

"Uh… I…"

"Patrick, who is it?" a heavenly voice said from somewhere in the house. "I'm not expecting anyone today." The blonde woman shoved the man to the side and gasped, seeing who it was at her door. "Skwsigaar?" She mirrored his shocked expression. Quickly turning to her house guests she threw on a shaky smile, "Patrick, um… I'll see you and Natsia tomorrow. Do say hi to your wife." She handed a blue coat to the girl and bent down, giving the small girl a kiss on the top of her head, "Bye Nats. It was nice having you over. You were much help."

"Ok, mom." Runa laughed nervously.

"It's ma'am, sweetie." Chuckled the man.

"But you so pretties, sometimes I wish you my momma." The girl pouted following her father as they stepped out to the sidewalk. Skwisgaar hadn't budged, only moved to the side to allow them space. Once the trio said their goodbyes, Runa slowly faced Skwisgaar. Folding her arms, she frowned.

"Skwisgaar. I see Ofdensen finally… you know." She looked down at the spot between them, obviously a bit uncomfortable at the current circumstance. Tugging on her halter top, she sighed. "Would you… like to come in?" she moved to the side.

"Uh… sure. Um, who was that man?" He turned as Runa closed the door behind him. The house was nice and cozy. He bit his lip, spotting several children toys scattered about the white plush carpet. Taking his shoes off at the foyer, Skwisgaar continued to follow Runa silently.

She sighed, "He's my father's assistant and my modeling agent." She bent down to pick up a toy truck and teddy bear. Skwisgaar could have died from relief. So it wasn't her boyfriend… or worse. Her husband. "He came over after picking up his daughter. I'm sorry it must have looked odd to you."

"Uh, no… not really." He scratched his head nervously. "How have you been? Aside from what the papers say, that is." He resisted the urge to ask her why she had so many children toys. No way she had them around for the little girl who just left. Something creaking upstairs made his eyes drift up to the stairs.

Runa shrugged, opening the closet beside the stairs and dumping the toys into a chest. "Fine. A bit caught up with modeling and as my father's vice president. Nothing too glamorous there." She walked over to the main living room and sat down on a white couch with a dark cherry wood frame facing a large screen TV. Skwisgaar took the love seat sitting adjacent to it on the right when Runa held her hand out to allow him to sit. The air around them was a bit uncomfortable. "What brings you here?"

Skwisgaar laughed nervously himself this time, "Would you believe I was here to whisk you away?"

The Finnish woman snorted and rolled her eyes, "Not exactly. Are you here to berate me for what I have done? Leave you, a possible happy future, to go back to the adult industry? Just because I am working right by my father in a rather high position, I still do what I did before I left. Only my contract allows me to do as many as I please, instead of a set of sixty leading sex roles." She frowned, obviously not to proud of the tidbit.

The guitarist slowly rubbed his hands on his pant legs, trying to rid of the building sweat. Things were just getting weird between the two. "No. I honestly just wanted to see you, is all." He stared straight into her eyes, concerned about the dark circles outlining her eyes and her thinner body. He frowned. "Are you not resting?"

She chuckled, "I'm fine. It's just that…"

"Momma…?" came a drowsy childish voice followed by a sniffle. "I hungries." Runa's eyes widen as both she and Skwisgaar turned their gaze from each other to the little blond boy rubbing his eyes by the entryway. The Swede's heart lurched into his throat when Runa got up and picked up the small boy. Curiosity filled his large azure eyes that stared back at him. "Who dat mommy?" The child looked no more than three years old, his frail arms held his mother as he nuzzled into her shoulder, squishing one of his round cheeks. The child was pale like her, yet the man could tell the poor kid must have been getting over a cold or something by the look of his red nose and tired face.

She whispered something in his ear and the boy nodded before being put down to scamper away. Runa over looked her shoulder at the man with a pained expression. She didn't say anything as she walked away. Skwisgaar shot up and followed her into their kitchen. The nameless child sat on a stool with a toothy smile on his innocent face. Skwisgaar didn't know what to do but swallow the lump in his throat.

"Skwisgaar. Would you like something to eat? I made spaghetti earlier while he was sleeping." She said from her place at the stove, her back to them. "Meet my son… Viktor. Precious, this is mommy's old…" her shoulders shook as she took a deep breath, "friend. Skwisgaar Skwisgelf."

The boy, Viktor, stared at Skwisgaar with wide eyes gasping, "You know Ski-gar, mommy? You never told me!" a large smile spread across his face, making his features glow, "Wait tills I tells my class when I gets better! How do you know my mommy?" he turned his face away and sneezed into a napkin he grabbed. "Ugh… I hates colds!"

"I… I…" he was at a loss for words. This child, this beautiful child was hers? He felt his heart rip in two again, watching the milky skinned boy as his eyes, the same as his mother, waited for him to respond. The golden hair boy was wearing plain blue footie pajamas even though it was past two in the afternoon. "We… worked together?" His voice cracked.

The boy giggled, "But you the best guitar player in the world! My mommy is model, not band lady."

Runa set two hot plates of pasta in front of them, a frown on her face. "Viktor, leave the poor man alone and eat for now. I'm sure he had a long flight." She licked her lips, "And Mr. Skwisgelf and I did work together. Remember that Aunty Lucy and I used to be in a band?"

"Oh yeah…" The boy dove into his food, slurping up the pasta, "But you no play anymore.". Skwisgaar watched, transfixed. No doubt he was cute, his charm most likely from his mother's side. But who was the father was the question that had Skwisgaar pondering to himself. He jumped when a warm hand rested itself on his wrist, coaxing him to follow the blond beautiful woman who just so happened to be Viktor's mother.

Once the two were in the hallway, Runa sighed, unable to look up at him. "Skwsigaar… I…"

"I'm sorry to have intruded on your life without calling. I… I assume the father is working right now? Perhaps I should leave." He turned to go but Runa grasped his shirt and shook her head.

"Skwisgaar… Viktor doesn't… have a," she struggled to finish her sentence, "He doesn't have a father." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with worry and sorrow. Skwisgaar sighed and leaned against the wall, pulling Runa to take another step forward as she continued to cling to his shirt. She was chewing on her bottom lip, something her and her friends did when they were worried.

"Do you know who it is then?" his voice was soft, his heart racing a mile a minute as terrible thoughts circled in his head. She had a baby… with someone else. He could easily admit he was jealous at how lucky this man was and he didn't even know it. It was evident that Runa had done a superb job raising the boy thus far considering the fact her own mother had abandoned her when she was just a baby.

Runa broke eye contact, "I do. And I had believed it was best the father never knew. I didn't think he would want him." She resisted the urge to come closer and hug the man before her around the waist, afraid of his reaction. "Plus our position didn't really permit it without… some complications."

Skwisgaar eyes widen yet again, "Then that man would be stupid. The child in there is so beautiful Runa. Like an angel. I don't see how this man would not want to raise him! Where is he? I'll knock some sense into him dammit!" he fumed.

Runa sobbed. "Skwisgaar… h-how old do you think Viktor is?"

This confused the man, "Three, maybe, close to four. He's so… small." He stared at the women who was just barely shorter than him. "Why?"

"Viktor was born four years ago in late June. I carried him full term." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. Skwisgaar tried his best to count back, clearing up some cob webs. Then realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he sunk to the floor, his mouth a gaped.

"In… October. It would have been the time he was… but we were…" he turned to face Runa who knelt in front of him between his legs, wiping the stray tear from her cheek. "Why… why didn't you tell me I had a son?" his voice shook with emotion, "Runa. How could you think I wouldn't want him?" Runa burst into tears as she covered her face, sobs racking her body. This caused Viktor to get down from his spot on the counter and investigate the noise.

"Mommy… why you crying?" he turned to their house guest, a pout on his face, "Why you make mommy cry!"

"I didn't…"

"Dere no one here but you and me with my momma. Who else made her cry beside the daddy I don't know?" the kid hissed, "You mean Ski-gar!" The child's outburst struck a chord in Skwisgaar and his breath hitch in his throat at his intelligence. Daddy made Mommy cry?

"Enough Viktor." The Finnish mother choked out, "That's no way to speak to him. We were just… talking about things that hurt Mommy. It's not his fault." She slowly got up and went into the kitchen, brushing pass son who continued to give the Swede a heated glare of mistrust. Runa could be heard blowing her nose. This was not how Skwisgaar imagined things being.

---Paris---

Toki was about to enter the club when someone grabbed and yanked him in, dragging him to an office located in a hidden corridor. Noticing the brown locks of hair flowing behind a small woman, he stopped struggling.

"Lucy, what's goings on?" he said at last when she closed the door. His guards were left outside. Her back faced him still.

"What are you doing here?" she said nervously. Slowly she turned to face him.

Toki shrugged, "Ofdensen says you be heres. I know tings haven't been greats, but I's not mads about what happens anymore." He fished in his pockets and pulled out a velvet box. "Dis was yours. You coulds have kepts it." Once it opened, her engagement ring sparkled in the light. Lucy smiled faintly.

She came to stand in front of him and carefully touched his hand with the box, raising it up until it was eyes level with her. Her smile grew a bit bigger as she ran a finger over the back of one of the bees. The two were silent, as if basking in the presence of one another. Without warning, her arms wrapped themselves around his neck and she pressed her lithe body against his, rubbing her cheek into his chest.

"I missed you Toki. How funny that you've come a day after I broke up with my boyfriend." She giggled as he stiffened, "As if you knew I needed company. But I would never have imagined you would come."

Toki wrapped his arms around her and sighed, "I wants you to knows dat…" he was silenced as she placed a finger on his lips, the same one that caressed the body of the golden bees.

"Shh, Toki." She whispered, looking up at him with eyes that held a great deal of warmth and love though an instant of fear and nervousness flashed behind the cerulean orbs. He smiled, understanding that she did still cared and was sorry.

"I forgives you." He stated simply. Her eyes widened a fraction, before closing as she rested her forehead over his heart. "I does."

"Then I can forgive myself. I made your nightmare come true, didn't I?"

Toki shook his head, "Nose. It more like wakes up calls for mes to grows up. You and I's were so youngs den. Maybe it not work out like we wanted twos." Her grip on him tightened.

"Maybe Toki. Maybe." They remained like that for awhile, wanting nothing more than this precious moment to last for an eternity. Eventually the migrated to the couch and just laid there in each other's arm, finding comfort in each other's warmth. Even when someone came to get Lucy for her to go to the stage, she remained there with Toki, a happy smile as they both drifted off to sleep.

--Moscow, Russia—

Ivan Korshunova grabbed his phone and placed it in his pant pockets before buttoning the cuffs of his red cotton dress shirt. Beside him Moira held up an Armani vest and blazer, both matching his black dress pants. He smiled and took the vest, slipping it on. The green eyed military business man had less than an hour to get to the airport and pick up Dethklok's manager and it's imposing front man. Moira had no idea the part Amazonian man would be in the country and he could only hope it stayed that way.

"My, aren't we looking dashing tonight?" Moira joked, helping Ivan put the jacket then went about and worked on his tie. "Are you sure I can't come and see Ofdensen with you? I don't even have to perform today." She rolled her eyes, "Unless someone can't make it but I highly doubt it." Once she was done, she patted his chest.

Ivan bent down to kiss her cheek. "Yes, my dear, I'm sure. We'll be discussing business and such. It'll be boring for you." The two went into their large walk in closet. Going to the coat rack at the end, he debated on which one to take. "We're going to _The Lounge_ for a few drinks. I promise I will be home as soon as possible. Perhaps we'll have dinner with him? You could met us."

The black haired woman sighed, grabbing a black over coat with furry lapels. "Fine. I guess I really don't have a choice but to wait by the phone for my dear husband to request my presence." She said sarcastically. She giggled as he held her, pressing her into his body as he rocked her from side to side.

"Moira. Don't be like that." He chuckled. Moira hummed as she closed her eyes, enjoying the faint scent of his cologne that soothed her instantly. He rubbed circles on her back, "I need to leave now, or else I'm going to be late. I'll make it up to you tonight." He taunted. Moira pulled back and laughed.

"I would never have thought of you to be a goof when we first met." Both were now walking to the front door of their mansion. "A married man, is a changed man. Right?"

Ivan shrugged, "Maybe. Only you and my sister have been able to bring this side out of me. Other then that I am what was it? Ah yes, as Cherry had put it: a robot. So be it to keep you safe. I love you." The two shared a chaste kiss as the stretch limo pulled up. "I'll see you later."

"Alright. Love you too." She had a small smile on her face as she watched him drive away. He was different then what she and everyone first thought and what amazed her the most was his unyielding love for her. For a brief moment she had a fleeting thought of Nathan and how he would have been if they had… she shook her head. "Stop living in the past Moira."

----

Murderface and Bloodyfist were walking along the pier, having a good time while they joked around and made fun of whom ever caught their attention. Somewhere along the night, Bloodyfist grabbed his hand in her own, slowly swaying it back and forth between them. Murderface was red in the face from embarrassment. This was something he was not used to, but at the same time, it felt nice. Suanna Bloodyfist was perhaps the only girl to not be put off by anything he did or acted.

"So Planet Piss is still in the works? My god! And after I worked my ass off to help you?" Bloodyfist sighed exasperatedly. "Serious man. Get it together." She looked at her wrist watched and frowned. "Hmm… I need to get to practice. I didn't get today off. But I'm free the rest of the week." Then an idea hit her like a bolt of lightning from Mount Olympus. Turning to him with a shy smile she giggled, "Wanna come? See how it's done?"

"Shure. Got nothing better to do. Where to?" he was actually excited to see her practice. Maybe he could learn something. Her grip on his hand tightened as she dragged him away.

---

Pickles and Cherry had ordered room service, both sitting on her bed and enjoying banana splits and beer with the TV on. The two had settled to ordering a movie as well, so the two were watching Tropic Thunder and laughing. Glancing at Pickles, Cherry grinned as she spotted a blob of whip cream on the side of his lip. Leaning over, she licked it off slowly, her tongue ring grazing his skin. Pickles gasped, allowing her to slip her tongue into his mouth. Pickles turned his head and deepened the kiss, holding onto the back of her head to keep her steady. When the two pulled apart, gasping for air and their eyes glazed over, they laughed lightly.

Pickles grabbed her bowl and placed it on the tray with his, allowing her to crawl over and straddle his lap. She showered his face with kisses, causing him to chuckle and massage her hips from the thin fabric of her booty shorts. Her breast pressed up against his bare chest. She wore a only a tank top while he wore just his jeans.

"This is the happiest I've been in a long time." He said, holding her around the waist and sighed in bliss. Cherry played with some of his dreads, nestling his head between her breasts.

"I know what ya mean, babe. Ain't nothin' gonna keep me away from you now. Maybe they gave up?" she was referring to Munkittrick and Van Winkler. "Though… it's a bit strange, huh?" She leaned back to look Pickles in the eyes.

The drummer noticed her nervousness and couldn't help but wonder too. It was strange that the two just seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. Everyone knew Ofdensen was still on a search for the man, not because of what he did to Moira really, but because he undermined him at his own game when the CFO had let his guard down.

"Let's not think about that right now ok? We have a long time ahead of us for this week. Tomorrow's the big day. You placed fourth, right?" Cherry relaxed a little.

----

Viktor had went back upstairs for him midday nap and already it was pushing late into the evening. Skwisgaar and Runa were in the living room again, sitting in silence that was beginning to unnerve them. What happened earlier nearly gave the Swede a heart attack. He had a son. He was a father! Fatherly pride swelled up in his chest. It was a strange sensation, but he couldn't help it. The boy was mad at him, but soon he would learn his mother's sadness was unintentional on his part. He never knew.

"It's late." Runa said, breaking the silence, "Shouldn't you head for your hotel or something?"

"Maybe." Was all that he said while sighing. What to do?

The former lead guitarist got up, "Well, how about something for the road. Coffee?" it was obvious she thought he was mad as she kept her head down in shame, unable to look him in the face. Skwisgaar's mouth twitched.

"Runa. Look at me." He ordered. Slowly she lifted her head, trying hard not to cry again. "I'm… I'm not mad. In fact, it's the opposite. I have a son. And his mother is the only woman I have ever loved." This caused her to blush. He stood up to stand in front of her. Slowly he embraced her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I'm only suppose to be here a week, but I'm telling you now I don't want to leave. If I could, I would leave everything behind and… and make up for the years I was not a part of his life and yours. These are the years that matter." He hooked his finger under her chin and forced Runa to lift her head. "I'm so sorry you had to be alone to do this."

She shocked him by reaching up to kiss him. Tears streamed down her face, but not from sadness. Something lit up within him, causing the world's fastest guitar player to move his lips in sync with hers, running his hand in her hair. His left hand rested against her cheek, the other slowly trailing down her body until it looped around her noticeably smaller waist and held her to him, trying to mold her into his being.

Runa pulled away panting. "Don't… be sorry." She said, "It was my fault. I should have told you when I found out at the hospital in Russia. I was scared Skwisgaar, because I didn't know if you would want him or if I would turn out to be like one of our mothers. You were always in my thoughts, I couldn't have been alone." She kissed along his jaw before trailing back up to his lips. With a final smooch, she pulled away, a happier smile on her face. "Will you go or…?"

She gasped as he picked up her, twirling around in the open area of the living room. "I'm staying for as long as I can. But… what do we tell your son?"

"Our son." She corrected, "We will tell him the truth. He really looks up to you. I guess the passion for guitar runs in our family." She laughed as Skwisgaar's jaw dropped.

----

Nathan grumbled as Ivan and Ofdensen shook hands and exchanged a few pleasantries. The front man knew he was the third wheel here and it irked him to no end. How ridiculous that he had to go all the way to Russia with Ofdensen instead of being left at home in Mordland. Was he a child? Perhaps, since at the moment he was pouting with his arms crossed. He didn't even like the new head of Dethklok Russia. Sure they had their disagreements and tussles in the past that could easily be set aside, but dammit, his near _perfection_ was unnerving. This was a man he knew many women had fallen for and somehow it bothered him.

"Nathan." Came Ivan's smooth voice, breaking his concentration, "Please meet Nadia Slutsky (AN: LMAO! It really _is_ a Russian last name, I swear!). She will be your guide while you're here. Ofdensen said you weren't too fond of the idea of coming, so I figured I should get someone to show you around. Last time you couldn't." The woman beside him was a bubbly coffee hair colored girl most likely in her mid twenties wearing a nice and decent royal blue business suit. In her hand was a clip board. Plain brown eyes sparkled with excitement. "Nadia is also one of my secretaries. If anything happens, she knows where to reach me."

Nathan rolled his eyes, "I don't give a crap. Let's get this shit over with and go home Charles."

Nadia finally spoke, "Alright Mr. Explosion! What would you like to do? I've already taken the liberty to check you into Moscow's most prestige hotel. Perhaps you'd like to rest up?" She walked him over to a nice looking black Mercedes-Benz. "Courtesy of Mr. Korshunova, sir." The two slipped into the back. "Well, I figured that since you _don't_ want to be near Mr. Korshunova, let's make an itinerary based on the things you want to do."

Nathan felt a headache coming on. "Uh… what do you suggest? Anything happening?"

The girl scribbled something on the paper attached to the clip board, "Well… the new Opera House opened up and I must say, it's beautiful." She cooed, "Mr. Korshunova finances it because of his…"

"Do I look like I listen to Opera?" he interrupted. "But whatever… I kinda always wanted to go to one. But the other guys didn't."

Nadia pursed her lips, thinking about the arrangements. "Well, I have access to the Korshunova's booth. It is most likely free tonight. Would you like to go?" Nathan waved his hand, his jester that he honestly didn't care. "Very well. The show starts at 7:30 and it is… 5 right now."

Nathan growled. "You can take me anywhere if you just shut up!" she 'eeped' and quieted down. The front man would have to beat Ivan the next time he saw him. A billboard caught his attention and his eyes widen. A beautiful pale woman with glimmering gold eyes was staring at him wearing a shiny black halter dress as she sat on something. A shame the writing was in Russian, but he didn't care much. It was her…

-----

Meanwhile in the limo, Ivan was rubbing his forehead, explaining the details of the situation. Across from him Ofdensen pinched the bridge of his nose. The two were trying to work out a system to work with so Ivan could continue with his plans with the benefit banquet for the children's hospital. Moira would be upset if it was postponed anymore than it already was.

"We need more than just tight security. I don't know where these people come from, but they're just as savage as the originals. I don't understand why they surfaced again. Cancerous is done." Ivan resisted the urge to groan in frustration. He was worried that his wife was home alone. Sure there were guards patrolling their property at every hour of the day and there were the few over cleaning staff members, but he just didn't feel right being away from her for so long. "Have you heard about anything happening to the others? Or are they only going after Moira?"

Ofdensen shrugged, "We'll have to wait and see. I have my men watching over the others since the boys are there with them. But it could be that Moira has once again gone big in the music industry, no matter the genre." He pursed his lips. "This is all unusual."

--At the Korshunova's Home---

Moira cursed as she ran around the room, trying to get ready at the last minute. "Someone is so getting fired!" she seethed. She had just received a phone call from the theatre. Apparently one of the singers had gotten food poisoning and now there was no one to finish up the night. With Moira being the best there was, she was the first choice. Too bad she didn't have an excuse to _not _go.

Throwing on a dark red off the shoulder gown, Moira quickly put half her hair up in a diamond clip, applied stage powder, some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick before grabbing the matching shawl and shoes for her dress. Her driver ushered her out and in the car Moira heaved a big sigh. Before the car started, a maid rushed to the car and through the open window, dumped a small bag of jewelry. Moira laughed.

"Well… I should call Ivan." She slipped on her Bluetooth so her hands could be free to do as they please. Sifting through the jewelry, she chose a simple white gold chain necklace with a diamond encrusted in more white gold in the shape of a small snow flake. To go with that were matching drop earrings.

"Hello?" Ivan sighed as he picked up the phone.

Moira bit her bottom lip, "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Oh, Moira. No, no. You didn't. Why did you call though?" A faint sound of music and glass clattering told her he was at the bar already.

She pouted, "Well, Aria got food poisoning. So I've been requested to fill in for her in tonight's performance. Pick me up afterwards?"

"Alright. Ofdensen will come to see you perform tomorrow, ok? Right now we have a lot on our hands. My apologies."

"It's ok. I don't expect you to come to every one. That's just weird." She giggled. "Bye then."

--With Nathan—

It was probably a good thing he packed his suit then as they pulled up to the Opera House where a large group of reporters were taking pictures of the rich and famous. All hell broke loose when he stepped out. Dozens of people crowded around him, speaking in various languages. To his left he noticed a similar scenario was happening to a woman but thankfully four hulking men jumped in and saved her, escorting her into the halls of the grand building. Who was that? He had only gotten a small glimpse of her face, just enough to register that she looked familiar. If only he could see her eyes.

"This way, Mr. Explosion." Nadia said. He frowned, noticing her skimpy red dress. He pushed his way through the sea of people with Nadia in front. Flashing her workers' ID at security, they permitted her and Nathan in. Inside was much more tranquil. "This way. We'll take the elevators." Nathan almost missed what she said. He was too busy looking for the black haired woman in a maroon like color dress. She was so small compared to the giants known as Russians (AN: My own stereotype for some reason). Giving up, he followed Ivan's secretary.

* * *

Booo! It started so well then ended kind of poopy and Ivan is a bit… uh, out of character from what I originally planned to have him act. Oh well. Now I am determined to draw his concept picture… but I suck at drawing men. I once drew Nathan Explosion… well… attempted to… and I laughed so hard I cried in shame. Well, this chapter answered some questions. Runa did keep her baby :D

**Dragonz**: How brutal. We feel each other's pain! But thank you. I'm glad to hear that my fic is not like Xixthe. Letters are nice… and Pickles strikes me as the more chill one since most of the time he's well… drunk. Lol. Lingering feelings, -squee!-

**Angela**: I try not to disappoint with my story lines, but sometimes I end up with writer's block because of it, hence why ALL my Inu Yasha fics are on hiatus… again. Trilogy? Hmm… Dunno. Let's see who this one flies. It's not getting as many hits as I was hoping for :(

**Gremlin**: As you can see, their kid is cute. Tee hee. Yes, Nathan needs lovin' and he'll get it.

**Question of the Chapter:**

Why don't you like Ivan? I'm quite curious.


	4. When Hell Froze Over

I'm a retard, I swear. I like… totally misspelled Ivan's last name. It's K-O-R-S-H-U-N-O-V-A. Yep. And I found the most hilarious last name to give his secretary: Slutsky. No joke, it _is _a Russian last name such as : Boris Slutsky (Soviet Poet), Erik Slutsky (painter) and others. Dunno the exact pronounciation, but it's really funny on the spelling part.

Tracks of Choice: "Time to Say Goodbye" _sung by_ Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman, "Ave Maria" sung by Sarah Brightman

* * *

Chapter 4: When Hell Froze Over

Nathan sat as far back into the plush seat as possible. In his professional opinion, opera music sucked. Tonight wasn't really an opera-opera, more like an exhibition of the singers' singing ability. Almost like 'Who's got Talent' or something. The only brutal part was the fact a lot of the women screeched to get those ridiculously high notes, as if someone shot a cat's ass. He touched his ear lobe, half expecting it to be bleeding a fountain of red. Thankfully that wasn't the case. He sighed, debating on whether or not to leave but Ms. Nadia Slutsky was so into it, he would have no choice but to stay. She was hot. Maybe he would get lucky? Happy ending? Did she live up to her last name or was it just a coincident?

He eyes drifted from the stage to look out at the audience, amused to see the rich and elderly there enjoying themselves. How was this entertaining? Not one singer so far in the last two hours had a speck of talent. But this was metal logic speaking however. Classical and opera were foreign to him. At least his curiosity was satisfied and none of the guys would want to taser him for dragging them along. Worse trip ever. And he still had a week to stay. Nathan knew Ivan didn't want him around, which was just fine and dandy with the front man, but that billboard had his mind swimming in questions.

It was _her_ wasn't it? Did the head of Dethklok Russia know where she was? His heart fluttered. She looked breath taking in the picture; her file Cherry created was in his suitcase at that very moment. Perhaps he should look at it, see if there was any clue on where she was exactly. Nathan shook his head, wondering why he was thinking such things. Anger bubbled then. She had left him heartbroken and so afraid to trust another woman, no matter how sweet the hatred and anger was. He didn't want to risk looking weak in front of his band again.

Nathan grunted and shifted in his seat, even if was unbelievable comfortable. Just another half hour and he could leave to go to a bar and get wasted. He needed to clear his mind and forget the shit-tastic music. He hoped the next few people who were supposed to come up were better, though it was highly doubtful.

----

Ivan loosened his tie as he and Ofdensen tried to relax for the moment. The great part about _The Lounge_ was that it was a high end bar, thus keeping the riff raff and whores out. However, several models did try to make a move, however the men would ignore them. One the last model came to bug them, Ivan held up his left hand, wiggling his ring finger. "I don't think the missus will appreciate it." was what he had said to the brunette. Huffing, the woman stormed away, up turning her head to stick her nose in the air as she did so.

"So how are you and Moira?" Ofdensen said casually, settling for a simple converstation as they set business aside and relax without the bothersome work they constantly had to do. It wasn't often the CFO could relax, and it was quite the treat. He was comfortable to know nothing was going to blow up or some random troll monster would be resurrected since the band was seperated. Ivan also handled his business well. At the first sign of danger, his security forces would mobilize immediately to protect their charge: Moira and Nathan.

The Russian shrugged, running a hand in his thick dirty blond hair. "I'm not too sure as of recently. When I told her about what happened between Pickles and Cherry, she began to distant herself from me." At this he side, sinking into the black vinyl leatherette chair across from Ofdensen. He propped his legs up on the corner of the coffee table. "It's because she still loves him." He mindless began to mess with his wedding band.

Ofdensen actually felt bad for the man deep down, but he didn't let it show as he nodded and took a sip of his red wine. "I see. Then how are things for her in her singing career. Doesn't the media call her a _popera_ princess?" Obviously he was amused by the name.

Ivan chuckled, "Yes, it does. Since we last saw you, my wife has had the honor of singing for world leaders and royalty. Her success is rather phenomenal in fact. She has won countless awards around the world, and we here in Russia believe her to be the best in the world. Her income alone is over nine million alone in a year. Of course, nothing like Dethklok's, but I am proud of my wife's accomplishments since she's no longer compared to _him."_ He raised his glass toward Ofdensen with a smirk on his lips, then finished off his Amontillado Sherry.

The CFO was impressed to say the least. That was more money than the others combined. "Congratulations on her fortune then. May she continue to entertain the world." Swallowing the last of his apple brandy, he set the glass down on the table were a waiter swooped in and took his glass and Ivan's away for cleaning.

Another round of drinks came and Ivan sighed. "What do you think Nathan is doing?" he said, grabbing his glass and turning the glass to make the contents swish inside. "I'm surprised Nadia hasn't called for anything." Pulling out his phone, he dialed the secretary's number. "Normally she does within an hour."

Ofdensen just raised his brow and looked off to the screen where the news was playing. Suddenly his eyes widen and he nearly spat out his drink from shock. On the screen was a close up of Nathan dressed in a suit standing in front of the opera house. Moira could be seen just behind him with bodyguards surrounding her. He wanted to groan. Why was life not working for him? First Pickles and Cherry and now those two? He finished off his drink in one go and ordered another. He would deal with a headache later.

Ivan noticed it too and gasped, his eyes widening in horror. Suddenly his anger flared as he was immediately directed to his secretary's voicemail. In his mind he was already going over the paper work that needed to be file so the woman was fired and ineligible for rehire anywhere. Calling up the driver, he ordered him to come as soon as possible.

Ofdensen _almost_ chuckled at the situation. Oh the irony that surrounded them all. Slutsky was asked to keep Nathan _away_ from Moira, but instead she brought him right to her… with Ivan almost halfway across the city. Speaking of which, the poor man was trying to keep his cool and not panic, but he pulled at his collar when he looked at his watch. With traffic, the two of them would be considered lucky to make it there in less than fifteen minutes. What made it worse was that they only had a limited amount of time to get to the theatre and through security before it was too late and Moira's phone was turned off. Punching numbers into his phone, Ivan stood up and began to pace.

When someone on the other line picked up, Ivan quickly spoke in Russian, not even bothering to breathe. His eye twitched, most likely hearing something he didn't want to as he paused. He even went as far to raise his voice at the other person. His patience was slowly dissolving. After a while, he hung up. A murderous glint in his eyes as he looked back at the screen.

"She is fired!" he hissed, "How dare she use my box without permission." The CFO got up, grabbed Ivan's forgotten coat, and followed Korshunova to the limo that just pulled up when they exited. His left foot tapped against the carpeted floor rapidly, his hands clenched over his thighs so tight, his knuckles were white. The younger man's mind was racing. What would happen if they met? He hoped to not find out. Ofdensen had set the coat down and sighed. Another day at work it seemed.

----

Nathan was close to falling asleep when all of a sudden the whole theatre rumbled with cheers and applause. He leaned over the railing, spotting the woman he had seen earlier take the stage and stand near a man who sang before by the name of Andrea Bocelli. She bowed, her face trained at the audience below. Her posture was confident despite her daunting size and the crowd once again went wild as she blew them a kiss. For a bunch of old and rich snobs, they were acting like teenagers at a concert.

Again, she was familiar, but he just couldn't place where he had seen her at the angle they were both in. Her face was still obscured. The front man silently wished for her to look up. The face… the eyes… he needed to see them. Finally she did.

He blanched, hazel eyes as bright as liquid gold looked about, her vision lingering in his direction yet she really couldn't see him with the stage lights shining in her face. Beside him, Nadia clapped halted as she gasped. She quickly turned toward Nathan with a look that resembled a deer caught in headlights. He didn't know that she was given orders to keep him away from Mrs. Korshunova. The secretary had been positive tonight should have been the Missus' off-night. Mr. Korshunova was going to maim her for sure.

The orchestra started, playing a nice and soothing piece. Nathan sat there in anticipation, his heart beat so rapid he briefly wondered if he would go into cardiac arrest, wondering how well Moira was in this genre of music. Judging from the earlier pieces, it was probably just as bad. The only one he thought was entertaining was something known as the "Dueling Cats" or something, since the two women meowed. Very amusing. Taking a step forward, Moira took a deep breath and began.

_Quando sono sola  
sogno all'orizzonte  
e mancan le parole,  
si lo so che non c'è luce  
in una stanza quando manca il sole,  
se non ci sei tu con me, con me.  
Su le finestre  
mostra a tutti il mio cuore  
che hai accesso,  
chiudi dentro me  
la luce che  
hai incontrato per strada._

His eyes widen, the softness and angelic voice produce from her vocal chords made goose bumps to rise on his skin. His breath hitch as she swayed slightly, captivating her audience with her beauty and voice. This was the former Metal Queen? With her current style, it was hard to believe she was capable of death growls. Surely that technique would have rendered her vocals incompetent of singing opera. Yet there she was on stage, her mouth wide as the Italian words echoed. Nathan chuckled, thinking back to the movie of _Phantom of the Opera_ he had seen by himself some time ago. Angel of Music. Indeed Moira was. He sat back, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he closed his eyes, letting his soul be soothed by the melody. It was an odd feeling.

_Time to say goodbye.  
Paesi che non ho mai  
veduto e vissuto con te,  
adesso sì li vivrò.  
Con te partirò  
su navi per mari  
che, io lo so,  
no, no, non esistono più,  
it's time to say goodbye_

Nadia felt sick, scared to dial her boss's number. She wasn't supposed to be here anyway, not without permission. But Nathan had wanted to go, and she didn't know… so she couldn't get fired for that, could she? Glancing at Nathan, her mouth hung open. Nathan Explosion… relaxing at an Opera? Andrea finally began his part.

_Quando sei lontana  
sogno all'orizzonte  
e mancan le parole,  
e io si lo so  
che sei con me, con me,  
tu mia luna tu sei qui con me,  
mio sole tu sei qui con me,  
con me, con me, con me._

_Time to say goodbye  
Paesi che non ho mai  
veduto e vissuto con te,  
adesso sì li vivrò.  
Con te partirò  
su navi per mari  
che, io lo so,  
no, no, non esistono più,_

Nathan had to admit the man was good, better than the other tenors. What was really odd was that Moira was a soprano, hitting notes he didn't think she could as she and Andrea finished off in a duet, the last note on _Te_ exceptionally higher than the other notes. Even now, when he should have been on some kind of rampage, the woman had captivated and astounded him to no end.

_con te io li rivivrò.  
Con te partirò  
su navi per mari  
che, io lo so,  
no, no, non esistono più,  
con te io li rivivrò.  
Con te partirò_

_Io con te_

The crowd went wild, giving the two a big round of applause. Both held hands and bowed low, large smile on their faces. Someone came and handed Moira a microphone. Her voice caused Nathan to shiver. What was happening to him? A shame he couldn't understand what she was saying as she spoke in Russian. Bocelli left the stage, taking the mic with him as Moira finished her small speech that caused the crowd to chuckle. A harp began to play as the lights dimmed, a single ray shining down on her. _Ave Maria._ One of the most popular aria pieces in the classical music realm, the 150 plus year old piece adapted from Bach's Prelude Number 1 in C Major was a hard piece. The notes were simple, but what many failed at was keeping the tone light, almost dreamlike like the violins and harp.

While everything seemed to be going smoothly, no one anticipated the sudden boom and the ratting of the large over head chandelier. The smoke alarms went off and everyone looked around in confusion. Moira's eyes widen as the ground shook again, causing her to topple over. Bocelli and a few other tenors rushed to her side.

Nathan's brows furrowed and Nadia cursed in Russian, finally turning on her phone and speed dialed her boss. She only hoped she still had a job in the morning.

----

While Moira had been in the middle of her duet, Ivan and Ofdensen got stuck in traffic. People dressed in black caught Ivan's attention, especially since a few were holding bags. He furrowed his brows, a sudden tightening in his stomach telling him something was terribly wrong. Ofdensen noticed it too.

"Something's up." he said, pulling out his phone. "I'm calling back up just in case." Ivan nodded, since Ofdensen was allowed to give orders to his men when the manager was in town. Not even a minute since the black dressed people rushed by, the car rocked from side to side as the familiar sound of an explosion was heard. Ivan's eyes widen and he jumped out of the limo before his driver could roll down the window and yell at him that it had come from the Opera House. Popping the trunk, the Russian moved a panel to reveal an array of arsenals.

Throwing on a bullet proof vest with grenades attached at the bottom, he quickly fastened as many pistols and extra magazines. Ivan began to make a mad dash to the burning building once he was done. Ofdensen was not far behind once he closed the trunk when he got his own vest and weapons. Both growled when another explosion went off. He left his phone in the car, not knowing his secretary was calling.

----

Hundreds of people were trying to escape the total mayhem that followed after the second bomb, confused about what was happening. Nathan didn't even give the tour guide a second thought as he rushed out of the booth and down the stair case, hoping to find Moira somehow. His concern for her well being overpowered his hate and total asshole-ness.

"Moira!" he shouted into the crowd, coughing as smoke filled his lungs. Half the lobby was in flames, blocking the main entrance. "Moira! Where are you?" He searched high and low, pushing past people old and young, hurt and scared. "Fuck! This is taking too damn long! Where?" His only focus was to find the black haired woman, and fast. Going down a burning corridor, he made it to the dressing rooms. "Moira?"

The shout of an angry woman caught his attention. He could recognize that growl from anywhere. Relief flooded his senses as he saw her crouched down, moving debris from someone, her being showing no sign of injury.

"If you fucking die on me I'm going to bring you back to life and kick your ass for pushing me!" she snapped at the unconscious woman which Nathan immediately noticed was Nadia. Uh-oh. "Fucking bitch!" How the hell did she get down here so fast? Oh right… she had been there before. Nathan could have smacked himself at that moment of stupidity.

Moira jumped when a large man bent down beside her to pick up her husband's assistant. Turning her head, her breath hitched in the throat, her eyes as wide as saucers. Nathan didn't want to look at her just yet, he couldn't.

"N-Nathan?"

"We gotta get out of here." He said, hoisting Nadia up over his shoulder. "Come on," He held his hand out for Moira to take. "You know the way out."

----

Ivan tried to ease his way into the theatre as a horde of people rushed out from the side gate way. "Move!" he shouted, knowing his wife was still inside. Call it a gut feeling if you will, the man was practically intuned with her well being. Gun fire was heard, a stray bullet shattering the cement on the wall beside Ivan's head. The people finally dispersed more, revealing the black suited terrorists. Ofdensen aimed and fired, hitting one that was hidden in the bushes.

"We need to hurry." Ofdensen said, "Who knows if any are inside."

The two made their way into the burning building, covering their mouths with one hand while they readied their fire arms in front of them just in case. "Moira!" Ivan called out, squinting his eyes. "Moira are you here?" A black figure burst from one of the rooms, ready to club Ivan. Luckily with quick reflexes, he shot the man in the chest.

"Cancerous'… vocalist… must die!" the man said before dying. Ivan's heart skipped a beat, noticing the armband with Dethklok's logo and a giant red 'U'.

"An Undertaker." His eyes widen. "But why now?" More of them began to show up, also having figured out that Moira Implosion was not in the crowd. Charles and his ally began to shoot from behind a pillar they used as cover. One by one they empties their magazines until finally none of the horrible people after Moira was left standing. Most were dead, others were too wounded to get up.

"We have to find her, but where?" Ivan said more to himself then to Ofdensen as he kicked one of the attackers away from him.

The manager was about to make a comment when his phone went off. Noticing Nathan's name on the caller ID he quickly answered. "Where are you?"

----

Nathan, Moira and the unconscious bimbo had made it outside using the back way that led them to an alley. Moira coughed violently, causing Nathan to stop his frantic pace to get away from the building. Smoke had filled her lungs, causing it difficult to breath. Her ashen face worried him as her coughing didn't subside right away. In fact she was beginning to sway from side to side while she pounded at her chest, sounding more like she was choking at the moment.

"I… can't breathe." She wheezed as if asthmatic.

"How long were you… Shit!" The poor woman fainted, almost hitting her head against the pavement had Nathan not dropped Nadia on some garbage bags to catch her. "Fuck!" he gently knelt down, cradling her fragile body against his to shield her from the cold. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he dialed Ofdensen. The man picked up right away.

"I don't know where the fuck I am dammit! I'm with Moira. No, she fainted. I think she inhaled too much smoke." He gnawed on his lips, staring down at her face. This was not how he planned to meet her again if he ever had to. "Yeah, she's breathing. Fine, I'll try to find the main street." He hung up. Looking back at the still cataleptic Nadia, he decided to just leave her for now and send someone to get her later. Right now Moira was the only thing that mattered.

Running as fast as he could in his uncomfortable dress shoes, he was intercepted by men dressed in what looked like fancy police uniform. He was about to fight them off when he noticed the plain Dethklok logo on one of their shirts, underneath that was also the Russian flag. They were Ivan's men.

The leader, a man with a very Stalin-like mustache, gasped, "Explosion! Good, you and the mistress are safe. Come, we have an escort car waiting around the corner. Is there anyone else?" he said through a thick accent. The large front man grunted.

"Yeah. Nadia whats-her-face." A few men went to retrieve her. Stalin-Man, as Nathan was calling the leader mentally, led him away, talking on a walkie talkie. Eventually a familiar voice could be heard.

"_How is she!_" Ivan said.

"Unharmed but fainted, sir. She's breathing." The other Russian man could be heard sighing in relief.

"_Alright. Get her and Nathan to safety back home. I'll be there shortly after I give orders to sweep up this place. Men, the Undertakers are back."_ Nathan's stiffened, his grip on Moira tightening. It couldn't be. Why was danger constantly following him anyway? All he wanted was to _attempt_ to enjoy himself without the guys and yet all this had to happen… when he was near _her_.

Finally getting into the black heavy window tinted Porsche, Nathan tried to take a calming breath. He wondered how the rest of the band was doing. He closed his eyes, trying to will the massive headache coming on as he shifted the woman on his lap into a more comfortable position. By doing so, she snuggled more into his chest, her hand holding onto the fine but dirty material of his blazer. Looking down, Nathan smiled faintly.

-----

It was close to nine thirty when Runa and Skwisgaar heard a knock at the door. The two were watching a movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn with Viktor still asleep upstairs. Pausing the movie, Runa went to investigate who was at her door. Looking through the peep hole the woman sighed. Her house guest made his way to the kitchen to grab a soda, since the woman didn't even a simple bottle of wine in her house. Maybe he should have been glad; romanticism never crossed her mind.

"Dad? What brings you here?" she said, moving aside to let the older man in. Mr. Rathgar Hathor was a man in his late sixties, yet didn't look a day over forty, as if he stopped aging and in better shape than Hugh Hefner by a long shot since he still had a head of thick sandy blond colored hair. Natural too.

The brown eyed man, which meant Runa's eyes were gifts from her unknown mother, looked around, a deep from on his face. "Skwisgelf is here, is he not? Does anyone else besides Patrick know?" Speak of the devil, the Swede emerged with a can of ginger ale from behind Runa. "You!"

Skwisgaar, completely confused, lifted a brow, "Mr. Hathor. Nice to see you again?"

"Dad! What's going on? No one knows, we haven't left the house. What's going on?" Runa huffed, pursing her lips as she stared at her father who was roughly her height of 6'1". "What does this have to do with Skwisgaar?"

Her father turned his back to her as he groaned, "I'm not sure, my darling. But you have to start packing. I'm taking you all back to my home because it's safer. I will tell you everything when we're there." Runa grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around.

"Old man, you're going to tell me right now what's going on! Viktor is still sick and it's much too cold outside for him." She seethed, her eyes narrowing. "And I will not have him go to that sick manor of sex of yours without good reasoning."

Slowly her father faced her and sighed sadly, "Your friend's husband called. He said there was an attack at the Opera house when she was performing." Runa had let him go and took a step back with her mouth hanging open and eyes wide, her back colliding with Skwisgaar's chest. "Undertakers are back." This caused Skwisgaar to choke on his drink and ale to seep from his nose.

----

It was still the afternoon in the states when Cherry and Pickles decided to go down to the beach to watch the surfers wipe out and just enjoy the sun instead of being cooked up in her hotel room. Sure they could do things to keep them occupied in the privacy of her room, but it shouldn't be the only way to spend time with one another. Currently Cherry was applying sun block on her ex-fiancé-turned-boyfriend-again so he wouldn't turn into a giant sun baked lobster named Pickles.

Creating a nice safety zone were half a dozen klokateers, arms crossed with a high-powered rifle strapped to their back. The black clothed men didn't seem to mind the extra heat produced from their clothes, but once in a while one would reach into their back pocket and pull out a bottle of sunblock for their arms, curtisy of Cherry and her concern about their well being. Who could move their arms if they were sun burnt anyway? Fighting would have been a real bitch.

The drummer was wearing a straw hat and shades, his head resting on his folded arms. This was nice. The ocean breeze was refreshing, the sound of the waves crashing on shore relaxing, the sun not too hot and Cherry's hand massaging his back was heavenly. Especially since she was wearing simple yet sexy black and red bikini that strangely matched his trunks. This was the good life. Sadly the racket that was known to be his deth-phone went off. He growled and answered.

"What!" he snapped, startling Cherry. She raised her glasses to rest on her head and glared down at him with a pout.

"The two of you haven't revealed her identity yet, have you?" Came Ofdensen's authoritive voice. "I need to speak with Cherry. Now."

Pickles was puzzled at the question, "No. We were thinkin' about doing it after the race tomorrow. Wait a sec." Turning over to his side, Pickles offered his phone to her. "It's Ofdensen."

Awkwardly holding the phone, Cherry felt something was wrong. "Charlie? What's the matter?" She sat back on her rump, one hand behind her to keep her steady as she leaned back a little. Pickles sat up right to, concealing more of his body into the shade from the beach umbrella.

Ofdensen sighed, "Cherry, I need you to listen carefully. Pull out from the race."

"What? I can't do that! It's tom-ah-row! I could git dinged pretty bad from my sponors buddy." She frowned, her lower lip jutting out, free from the lip ring that was normally on it. Pickles gave her a look that asked her what was happening. She shrugged.

"I know. I'll give them a call. Cherry this is serious. You're in danger. Less then half an hour ago there was an Undertaker attack which we assume was aimed for Moira since they coincidentally arrived when Ivan wasn't there."

Cherry gasped, "Is she ok?" she covered her mouth, "Charlie… I dun get it. Why now?"

"I don't know myself yet, but please, be careful. I'm sending the Murderbus for both you and Pickles. You'll be safer in Mordhaus until I get back. Have you noticed anything suspicious?"

She shook her head, "Nuh-uh. Same ol' shit really when it comes ta pre-race time. I'll fill in Pickles and talk to my brother. I trust ya Charlie. See ya." She sighed, pulling the phone away from her hair and ear. "Shit."

Pickles rested a hand on her shoulder, "Babe, what's wrong? What did he want?"

The racer rubbed her eyes, "Fuck. Let's get back to the hotel, n' I'll explain. First I gotta call my brother." Dialing the older man's number in Pickles phone, she placed back by her ear. The two walked away with four klokateers, two stayed behind to pack up their belongings. "Hey, Par. It's CC. I'm pullin' out…"

-----

Murderface and his female counterpart were near her small home where she shared with her other band mates, splitting living expenses in four ways. Murderface thought it was just crazy.

"Aren't you all… crowded or shomehting? Mordhausch is huge, but I schtill think the guysch get annoying."

Bloodyfist laughed, "It's not so bad. It's hell of a lot bigger then the tour bus the girls and I used to cram into." She smiled sadly at the memory. "We made it work though."

"Maybe becaush you were girlsch. It all worked out."

"Nuh-uh. When Moira or Runa were on the rag, it was hell. Those two were so moody and in pain, yeesh! One occasion Runa was tempted to rip scoop out her ovaries with a melon baller." Bloodyfist shook her head. Murderface just stared at her. The former bass player would have continued but her phone went off just as they made it to a cross walk. The two waited to be signaled to continue. "Hello?"

Immediately she paled, Murderface wondered what was going on. Even when the signal indicated for them to move, she stayed rooted her spot. Then without warning she began to look around, a panicked look in her eyes. The small entorage of klokateers readied their weapons just in case.

"Are you sure?" she asked the person on the other line. She sighed. "Alright… I understand." She hung up and cursed. "Sorry Murderface, looks like our plans have been cut short. We're leaving tonight." Without letting him speak she led him away.

Murderface frowned, "What do you mean we're leaving? I jusht got here today!" for reasons unknown, his mind jumped to an irrational conclusion. "Ish it a shtalker? Should I prepare to kick shomeone's assch. Shomeone bugging you?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not like that, but have a situation on our hands. Ofdensen wants you and I back in Mordlord. Tonight. Cherry and Pickles are to meet us there." That didn't seem to bother him too much, but still he was curious and Bloodyfist knew it. "Seems Munkittrick wants to fuck with Ofdensen again."

"Oh…"

-----

Lucy was in her office, rubbing her temples as she and Toki listened to Ivan on speaker phone. He was telling them the protocol they had to follow, and already the young woman was getting more and more fustrated.

"Ivan." She cut in, "Are you sure? How would they know that Dethklok went to look for us? In Paris it doesn't matter. But everywhere else, wouldn't it be on the news?" she glanced at Toki, "I mean, come on. We disbanded because of Dethklok, and now we're trying to patch things up with them. It's big news! Why wouldn't they just attack Moira?"

"I know, Lucy. We're still questioning some men we apprehended. Ofdensen knows it's not a mole within Mordland, so our only guess was that all this time someone has been keeping tabs on you all. Like we first said, Moira's the leader. She's the first target." The sound of Ivan getting out of car could be heard. "I'm sending men to get you and take you and Toki to a safe house there in Paris. You're free to do as you want until then, but I suggest you stay within the club. I have to go now."

"Bye Ivans!" Toki said, "Tells Moira I says hi." Ivan chuckled before he hung up on them. Lucy got up. "Where you goings?"

She looked over her shoulder, "To the bar. You coming?"

------

Ivan entered his house with long strides, trying hard not to run into the master bed room where Moira was being seen by a physician in the presence of Nathan Explosion. Dozens of guards lined the interior of his house, almost a hundred were outside on patrol. Climbing the steps at two at a time, Korshunova swung the door open to his bed room. On the bed still in her evening dress was his wife, still out cold as the elderly doctor checked her vitals as he leaned over her. Nathan stood beside him, his gaze trained on Moira and nothing else.

The doctor straightened himself, rubbing his lower back. "Fine, Mr. Korshunova. There's nothing to worry about. All she need is some clean air and she'll be fine.." he smiled kindly, chuckling a little at Ivan's disheavled and dirty appearance, the bullet proof vest still on him. He moved to the side and allowed Ivan to kneel by the sleeping woman.

Gently he placed his large hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb affectionately along her temple. Without looking, he addressed Nathan who was staring at the wedding band on Ivan's hand. "Thank you, Nathan. For finding her." He said quietly, not wanting to wake his woman up.

Nathan grumbled. "Like I had a choice. Did it on reflex I guess." He had removed his tie and unbuttoned the first three on his shirt in order to breathe better. Occasionally he would cough, but nothing serious. "Don't know what happened to Nadia."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Fine, I assume. It won't matter, she's fired for going against some regulations I expect my employees to follow. Perhaps this attack was partly her fault." Nathan raised a brow and Ivan turned his head to look up at the man. "Until today, we had no reason to suspect an attack against Moira. You show up and the Undertakers spring into attack. Sadly, they're not only after her… but your band as well."

"I don't get it. They were hard core fans." Instantly Nathan remembered what Van Winkler had said to him just before Moira got shot, trying to protect _him._ Nathan still couldn't forgive himself about that.

Ofdensen walked in, "Excuse me gentle men." He said, though Explosion was anything but a gentleman. He did leave Nadia on a pile of trash in an alley behind a burning theatre. "I was able to find some connections between the recent riots and this attack. If I could have a word with you Ivan." The Russian sighed, but nodded. Reaching over to grab Moira's hand, he held it and kissed the knuckles before leaving the room. Nathan furrowed his brows, a bit confused at the man's loving action.

When the two left, Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Moira's hand, the one Ivan had touched. They were slightly cold.

"You know… this was not what I had expected when we met again. I knew it was gonna happen but fuck. This is really fucked up." he said. Of course Moira didn't respond. He rubbed her fingers and felt an odd indentation on her ring finger. Upon examination, there was a groove that stated a ring had been there. His eyes widen, just as Moira began to stir.

"No… you're?" Ivan's hand popped into his mind as he gasped.

Miora's eyes fluttered open. "Ivan?"

-----

The thirty-three year old Russian man sighed, staring at Moira's wedding band in the palm of his hand. He and Ofdensen went down to his studies, just a few doors from his and Moira's room. He really wasn't sure why he took it, in fact he should have just left it to rub it in Nathan's face that the front man lost and Ivan Korshunova had the honor of claiming Moira Implosion as his. Ofdensen looked up from his reports, noticing that Ivan wasn't listening to him for once. He spotted the ring.

"You do know you're giving Moira a chance to go back to Nathan, right? Isn't that ring suppose to remind her she's taken?"

"I don't know Ofdensen. I have faith in my wife for making the right decision. If what you think is true, I hope she won't need a reminder that she chose to marry me instead of waiting for him like the others of Cancerous did. I would like to believe she loves me." He looked up, his shouldered slumped in exhaustion. Charles could almost pity the man.

"What if she married you to forget about him? Or for the fact she's unable to be by herself? Not because she fell in love with you. It happens, you know. Your marriage could be one sided. Moira is a pretty good actress when it comes to her feelings." He really didn't want to bother with the questions. They uninterested him to no end. Love. It meant nothing but weakness. A weakness Ofdensen hoped wouldn't destroy Ivan in the long run, since the man's feelings were unconditonal. This was a critical moment in their careers that would effect Dethklok and the disbanded Cancerous. There was no room for errors or mixed feelings.

"Honestly, Ofdensen." Ivan said, pocketing the ring, "I'm not to worried about those reasons. If it prevents her from commiting suicide like my sister, I'll do what I can. Don't worry, my duty is still to assist you with keeping Dethklok safe. However my wife is the only person I will die for." He gave the manager a hard stare.

"Very well. Just don't fuck up."

* * *

And thus concludes this chapter. Bum, bum, bum! Already a dramatic turn of events that cuts out favorite bands' mending process short! –gasp!- What shall happen? Especially between Moira and Nathan? Oh the inhumanity!!

Sorry… I'm partially high at the moment. Yay for meds and markers! I'm glad to know that I manage to find time to write this fic between work, school and sleep along with other human functions and needs.

**Dragonz: **I see. That seems to be everyone's reason, lol. I really enjoyed writing the scenes with Runa and Skwisgaar. Their son's totally awesome cuteness was inspired by my baby brother. Except Viktor can talk…

**Angela:** Yeah, I am cruel at times. I wanted to cry too, so don't worry. Also: BUWHAHAHAHAH! Rabbits? I guess… Pickles and Cherry just love to make love. ;) Opposites do attract. I'll explain Moira's behavior later.

**Lavvia: **A million? :O Oh my. Viktor was a cute name and to me he's victorious for being Skwisgaar's baby. Woot!

**Gremlin:** A jerk? Ivan a jerk? Maybe. Eek! I'm glad you remembered about the speech classes thing from _Frightklok_! Yep.

Note: I dunno why… maybe from boredom…. But I went on a search under Rathgar and it's a place in Ireland. Dun, dun, dun! And Hathor is (which I forgot but it's been years) an Epyptian goddess. Does that make Runa and her family part Egyptian? Not really… They're Scandanavian :D

**Come on people! Please Review! Please? You makin' me sads :(**


	5. After Shock

Damn, to let you guys know: Nathan is like OOC in my opinion :( But for some reason I just couldn't fix it without messing up Moira. Gah… the life a fan fiction writer… Crap, even Skwisgaar's a bit… yeah… Oh well.

**FYI:** _Reunionklok_ might go on a temporary hiatus until _Cancerouklok_ is done being 'updated' just so you guys aren't swapping between both fics and the future things to come don't confuse you too much. Not that they will but if you're as stupid as me, it might :D

Warning: SkwisgaarXRuna action going on

* * *

Chapter 5: After Shock

The first thing Moira noticed when she woke up was piercing green eyes. Assuming they were her husband's she had called out to him as she tried to sit up. However, when he didn't respond, Moira opened her eyes fully, temporarily blinded by the bright light coming from the desk lamp. Once she was accustomed to it, she noticed the eyes she mistaken were set in features carved from stone, thick eye brows furrowed in a permanent scowl to match the frown.

Her eyes widen then, her mouth hanging open as she tried to form words. An elderly maid with a round face came in to drop off clothes, telling her in Russian that Ivan had her stick them in the dryer to warm them up since her skin was so cold. As quickly as she came, the old woman left, probably finishing up for the night now that the Korshunova's were back. Moira gripped the sweater, pleasantly warm against her nimble fingers, and sighed. Ivan was always watching over her, despite the trouble she caused him.

"Nathan…" she said quietly, almost hesitant. For all she knew she was dreaming. "Um…" she couldn't look at him as she shifted her gaze to stare at her bare feet. The bottom of her dress was ruined, parts of it burnt and torn. Why was it so hard to talk? She was rarely at a loss for words.

Nathan was the first to speak shockingly. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly. "You fainted back in the alley."

Moira shrugged, "Fine… I suppose. Lungs hurt, but what do you expect?" she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and got up on shaky legs. Nathan held his arms out, ready to catch her if he had too. Once she was steady, she straightened up and grabbed her clothes. "Mind turning around or a minute?"

Nathan rolled his eyes, ready to make a comment about already seeing her indecent but decided against it. He complied by turning his back to her. Again they were engulfed in silence while Moira slipped on the more comfortable clothes. Nathan was staring at an uninteresting picture of a woman, probably a model. Was that Ivan's wife? Little did he know it was actually a photo of his deceased sister.

Once Moira slipped on the off the shoulder sweater, she looked down to see why it didn't get snagged on her ring. It wasn't there. "N-Nathan?" she said, turning toward him as her right hand held her left ring finger.

He turned, "What?" he didn't mean to sound so gruff, but he couldn't help it. He was confused as why he wasn't more upset with being near her. She had broke his heart, and yet somehow he was acting as if nothing terrible had happened. In fact he was a bit at peace. Hearing her voice was a dream come true. Nathan hadn't realized how much he missed her compared to his anger.

She shook her head, "Never mind. Um, wanna get something to eat?" Moira felt it was too soon to tell Nathan about her marriage, in case he didn't know. Which was probably the case. Most likely Ivan had taken it in order to prevent any more trouble for the time being. The man was just too thoughtful about her feelings. "Let me just wash my face first and get the gunk off."

"I… guess." The two left the room once Moira came back from the bathroom. She went to the one down that hall, not comfortable with scrubbing her face clean in her own master bathroom. Nathan followed Moira out, letting her be his guide as he looked around at the different pictures along the wall with several statues spaced evenly. "So uh… you live here? In R-Russia I mean." He needed a conversation to keep himself from thinking about what happened. Ofdensen still hadn't explained much to him. He turned to stare at the back of her head, just missing the wedding photos.

She nodded her head. "Five years now. I'm here on a residential Visa. Becoming a citizen just didn't seem right yet."

"I see… what have you been up to? Besides the Opera thing." The two were going down the flight of stairs that led them through the ball room. The layout was almost like Yakov's Lebedev estate, only bigger.

"Uh… well. I sing pop. I'm bigger then Madonna now." She couldn't help but snort unlady like at that, "I've sung around the world pretty much, so I travel quiet often, about four or five months out of the year." Moira actually enjoyed their small talk. It was as if nothing really happened, but there would be a point in time tonight that the subject she wanted to avoid would be touched upon most likely. There was no way around it. "And you?"

He shrugged, even if she couldn't see it. "Same shit. Concerts. Fans. Being lazy. It's all good I guess. Ivan's married, huh?" he didn't noticed her sudden intake of breath and her misplaced step, causing her to stumble a bit.

"Uh, yes… he is." Moira felt her face getting hot. Nathan just stared at the back of her head with a suspicious look.

"Where is she? Ivan seems to still you know… care about you. Should have seem him when he got here."

"Here we are! I'm gonna heat up dinner. Want some?" she hoped she diverted him from the question for now.

Nathan sat down on a stool situated at the island. Moira was across from him at the stove, turning on the oven and making sure nothing was inside. "What're you having?" She was revealed he dropped the subject about Ivan.

Moira went to the fridge and opened it, pretending to look for what she needed in hopes of him not asking why she knew where _everything_ was. "Ivan said… that the chef made pot roast earlier, so I was gonna pop it in the oven so the microwave doesn't kill it. And… ah-ha! Caprese salad and mashed potatoes." She smiled at him as she set the stuff down. "Don't see how you'd want anything else."

"Moira… how come you know where everything is?" he said, grabbing the bowl the salad was in so he could look at it.

She paled, "I've been here… often?" she giggled nervously. Nathan left it at that. He really wasn't in the mood to get into an argument over something as trivial as to how she knew the mansion's layout. He normally would keep bugging, but none of the guys were here and he was proud to admit he grew up… a little. Ivan did care, so maybe he did invited her often. Moira was relieved he dropped that too.

Once everything that needed to be heated up was, the two sat across from each other and ate a little bit. Chit chatting here and there. It was a lot better than some explosive argument, perhaps that night's events had tuckered them out from their fighting spirits. It was almost like old times.

Ivan opened the door to his kitchen and frowned at the sight before him not even an hour later.

Moira laughed, "You're kidding!" she wiped away a tear, "Man, your concerts are more fun than mine." Nathan grinned a little. Ivan then cleared his throat, startling Moira and causing Nathan to glare at him.

"Moira, I need to speak with you." Korshunova said, opening the swinging door to the kitchen wide for her. "In private, please?" The woman sighed and got up, following her husband into the main hall. He carefully turned her toward him and spoke in Russian, just in case Nathan decided to eavesdrop.

"_I'm guessing you haven't told him? About us?"_ Ivan said, putting his hands in his pockets. He had finally taken off his vests and tie to get more comfortable now that he was in his home. He and Ofdensen had concluded their meeting, the CFO off in the guest section of the house to take a room and sleep for the night. Moira shook her head and sighed. "_Moira, you need to. Wait any longer and it's going to be harder on the three of us. It's not fair for him, but it's not my place to tell him. Don't lead him on."_

Moira bit her bottom lip as she rubbed the back of her neck. She shyly looked up at him, "_I know, but I just can't yet. This wasn't how I wanted things to be, not after he and I were once again trying to stay alive. Maybe tomorrow. Isn't that why you took my ring?"_

Ivan sighed dejectedly, _"I'm glad you noticed. Of course I took it to spare my wife an immediate confrontation with the man she really loves. But-"_

"_Now you stop right there Ivan! How many times must I tell you I don't love him anymore? I mean, I care about him, but it's not like I'm going to leave you. He and I… we're not meant to be."_ During her tirade she got closer to him, going as far as to hold both his hands in her, hoping he would believe her. _"It's dangerous to love him Ivan. I'm happy with you."_

Ivan pulled one of his hands away from hers, slowly bringing it up to her face to caress her cheek again, his other hand slipping her ring into her palms. She leaned into his touch, never breaking eye contact with him, "_I don't want to see you get hurt again, Moira. How can you say you don't love him when you used to cry about him every night before and after we got married." _She gasped_, "How could I not know? Don't lie to yourself Moira. I'm prepared for the outcome, whichever it may be. I just want you to be happy." _he pressed his lips against her forehead, _" I know Nathan still loves you, no matter what you think. I'm going to bed. It's your choice if you want to join me or not tonight. I'll understand if you don't show. They'll leave in the afternoon."_ With that, he walked away, leaving Moira standing alone and hurt.

Once she couldn't hear his footsteps, she pocketed the ring and entered the kitchen, chuckling as Nathan raided the fridge for something. When he pulled out a half eaten pie, she laughed a bit louder, scaring him a bit. He frowned a little, but said nothing as he looked around. Guessing he was looking for the forks, Moira maneuvered around him and opened one of the drawers.

"Thanks." He mumbled, "But uh… I'm not going to eat this whole thing." Rolling her eyes, Moira got another fork for herself and sat on the counter, Nathan beside her. Between the two, they ate in peace. "So, what did he want?" Nathan said, popping the first piece into his mouth.

She saddened a bit, grabbing the tray from him and took a bite for herself. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the nice quiet time between them. She was tired of fighting with him, the two months they lived together when Cancerous was still a band had been enough. Moira was afraid to hurt him anymore then she already did. Looking at Nathan still dressed in his suit, she couldn't help but smile a little before feeling the tell-tale sign of tears. Since the day they found her, she had once again gained the ability to cry. It unnerved her to no end.

"Nathan?" she said quietly, putting her fork down and hunching over more to get a better look at his face. "I'm sorry." She sniffled. Ivan's words rung in her mind. How could he still love her?

Midway of getting his fork into his mouth, he glanced at her, setting the utensil and pie pan down with only a quarter of the contents left. "It was a long time ago. Tonight I realized it was stupid to hold a grudge. We can just start over, right?" He faced her completely, boxing her in with his arms on either side of her hips. Moira saw the passion burning in his emerald green eyes.

The black haired singer covered her eyes with both hands. She had to tell him. She exhaled a shaky breath. "It's too late to start over." She whispered. Nathan almost didn't hear it. He furrowed his brows more.

"Why would you say that? " he reframed from saying that everyone else was. Why was she being difficult? "I really haven't stopped thinking about that night Moira. Have you?"

She dropped her hands and blushed, staring at him with wide eyes. How could she forget? It felt so right. The diva shook her head. "Neither have I… but that was before…" her voice trailed.

"Before what?" his fingers itched to hold her. So close, she was so close. "I meant what I said before I fucking passed out and you left me."

Her body shuddered at his proximity. "Promise me you won't hate me?" she said softly, looking up at him with fear clouding her eyes. Nathan's pursed his lips, his expression guaranteeing her no promises. "Nathan." She said, the inner pain constricting her heart most painfully as her lips quivered. "I… I…" she hadn't realized she was beginning to weep until he wiped away a tear with a large and inviting hand.

With a frustrated cry, she jumped down from the counter, pushing Nathan to the side and crouched in the corner between the sink and dishwasher to their left. "I'm so sorry Nathan… I'm so sorry." She sobbed, digging into her pocket to look for the one thing she hoped would make him understand. When she did, she held her palm out and showed it to him. "I moved on." However her words didn't sound convincing to herself.

Nathan took a step back, dozens of negatives emotions passing through his eyes. Disbelief, hurt, fury, jealousy… betrayal. When Moira thought he would yell or throw something, she was surprised to see him sigh, running a hand through his hair. They were silent for a while, Moira finally containing her sobs into frequent sniffles, before he finally spoke up again. Moira could hear the suppressed rage in his voice. "It's Ivan… right? You're husband?" his nostrils flared in anger, but he did nothing. He didn't even give her time to reply as he turned and walked away. "Should have fucking known. He's more stable then I am anyway."

For some reason that hurt her more then she expected as a new wave of tears and sobs erupted. Like a lost child, she curled up, putting her arms around her knees as she buried her face in them. His reaction was painful. Had he been the violent kind of angry, perhaps there was still hope of rekindling a friendship. Explosive rage was what brought them together in the first place. Dethklok's front man did mean a lot to her, more then she would admit to anyone or herself, and at that moment she knew… Nathan Explosion hated her.

----

Nathan walked aimlessly for a while, not sure of how to cope with the news. Everyone he loved left him for someone else. Rebecca Nightrod was a perfect example, even while she was in a coma. Maybe he should have taken it as a sign to just live like a hermit. He was destined to be alone. The grandfather clock in the lobby rang, signaling that it was now midnight. The dongs reverberated around the walls with an ominous sound.

Ofdensen came out of his room, wondering who kept walking up and down the halls at such a late hour. Seeing Nathan he sighed. Figures. "Nathan," he said through an unprofessional yawn, "Go to sleep. The room to my left is yours." He hiked his finger in the direction. When Nathan said nothing, he got a bit worry. "Is something wrong?"

"You knew, didn't you?" he said, leaning against the wall by Ofdensen's door, "That… Ivan and… and… Moira were…" he sighed. There was no use in asking why no one told him. It was probably apart of Moira's plan set into motion some years ago.

Charles sighed, sending his eyes heavenward before looking back at the tall sulking man. "I did." He said, "It wasn't my place to tell you."

Nathan grunted, pushing himself off the wall, "I'm just… gonna go to bed… and sleep. Uh, maybe paint my nails first. Then sleep, or crouch in a corner." He didn't wait for the manager to say anything as he left, quietly closing the door behind him.

Ofdensen sighed, "I wonder how Moira's doing. Nathan's hurt pretty bad."

----

At that time Moira had finally summoned enough energy to get up and make a slow trek to her room, finally having slipped her wedding band back on for safe keeping. Ivan was her life line now. She scrubbed her eyes, hoping her face wasn't puffy and red from her crying-fest. Once Moira finally made it to the double doors at the end of the hall of the upstairs west wing, she slipped inside.

In the dark she could see Ivan already in bed, his back turned to her said as he breathed evenly, dressed in only black fleece pajama pants on his side. Moira took off her clothes and slipped on a nightie, crawling into her covers to save herself from the chill. Snuggling up to her husband's back, Moira let out a shaky sigh.

"Are you ok?" Ivan's soft and soothing voice said. He turned to hold her. "Since none of us heard screaming, I'm guessing it didn't go too well." He began to stroke her hair tenderly, doing his best to comfort her as best he could. When it came to Nathan Explosion, there was almost nothing anyone could do to help her. Moira was just too stubborn to see how much she still cared for the other front man. "Moira?"

He didn't expect her to pull away and lay flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling with a vacant look in her eyes. "I'm a bad person Ivan. He hates me." She said monotonely. "You were right."

Ivan propped himself up on his arm to look down into Moira's face. He moved a stray strand of hair from his wife's eyes and smiled faintly. "You're not a bad person, Moira. Things just didn't work out for the both of you." He slowly lowered his head until his mouth was by her ear. Moira shuddered as his hot breath hit the shell of her ear. With the hand he had used to move her hair, he brought it to rest on her left cheek. "Everything's going to be fine now."

Moira whimpered a little and turned to her side away from Ivan, wiggling herself over to the edge of the bed. "I doubt it, Ivan."

-----

Runa and Skwisgaar got out of the car when it finally came up to her father's lavish home. The Finnish porn star model sighed, holding her still sleeping son close to her bosom. She stood in front of the home and looked up. Her father placed a withered hand on her shoulder.

"Inside isn't the same as the last time you were here. It's more child friendly." He said with a small smile, "Of course I want my grandson to see me."

Runa shook her head, "I'm not worried about that." She shifted Viktor in her arms. "If they're after us… Viktor could…" her sentence trailed as she bit her lower lip. Skwisgaar and Rathgar understood what she meant. The four entered the house, the younger adults stunned by the beautiful antique vibe that surrounded them. Runa couldn't help but smile as she saw photos of her family hanging up instead of erotic shots of the girls who worked for him. She was a little freaked out when he had one of her, not as extreme as the others, but the fact he would even have a nine by twelve foot portrait over the mantel was scary.

Rathgar cleared his throat, "It's late. Why don't the three of you go up stairs and take one of the guest rooms? We'll discuss this matter in the morning." He bowed a little and left.

"Come Skwisgaar, this way." Runa said, ready to go up the stairs. The Swede stopped her. "Huh? What is it?"

"May I?" he motioned for the small boy. Runa's smiles broadened as she nodded, carefully transferring the child between them.

"Careful. Support him with your arm on the back of his leg." She scolded lightly. "You've never handled a child, have you?"

Remembering his adopted 'son', he couldn't help but snicker. The fat bastard was difficult to deal with and heaven be damned if his real son will turn out to be a fat ass like Fatty Ding-Dong. But with Runa as his mother, it was highly doubtful. "Not really." He bent down to kiss her cheek, "But you can teach me." Before he straightened, she planted a chaste one on his lips.

"Of course." The two settled for conjoined rooms, leaving Viktor in one as they took the other. Skwisgaar, wearing only his jeans, was leaning against the doorway watching over the sleeping boy with a content smile. Runa snaked her arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder as she pressed her chest against his back.

"He's so beautiful." Skwisgaar whispered, "Just like his mother." He turned in her grasp and held onto her, "The guys won't believe this. Not after what happened with Fatty Ding Dong." The woman laughed. Once she quieted down, he placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned down to kiss her, holding her head in place until he drew back just a little for his lips to brush against hers as he spoke. "I want to fuck you so bad." He moved one hand down to press her hips against his while the other reached around to undo the knot of her halter top behind her neck, then sliding lower to remove the one holding the piece of fabric to her body.

-SxR-

The top slid off her body and Skwisgaar wasted no time in paying homage to the pale flesh revealed to him, his hands going down to under the buttons of her pants as his mouth licked, nipped and kissed her heated skin. Runa stretched an arm behind Skwisgaar's to close the door on her son. At least he would knock before entering a room, thus he wouldn't have to see the deed they were going to do in case he woke up. Once the soft click was heard, she unclasped her bra and threw it to the side.

Skwisgaar's mouth slowly trailed down her sternum. There was only a brief pause in his open mouth kisses when Runa pulled off her bra. The two migrated to the bed, Skwisgaar gently laying her down. The soft light of the lamp beside the bed gave the Finnish woman's skin a soft glow. He kneeled between her legs and worked of getting her pants off her legs. Once Runa was naked before him, he ran his callous hands up her smooth legs until he felt the slight almost unnoticeable groove on her hip. He mentally sighed, his gaze drifting over to her arm on the opposite side.

As Skwisgaar was slowly memorizing her body with his sense of sight and touch, she stared up into his face and watched as his gaze drifted to her arm where the slight two inch scar had blended with her skin, the fingers of his right hand stroking the one on her hip. He reached for it, fingering the small warped groove with an audible sigh.

"Do they displease you?" she whispered, her left hand crossing over her chest to hold his hand that now gently palmed the marred flesh.

Skwisgaar shook his head, "No. The fact you keep them reminds me that you're not a conceited woman in your line of work." He smiled, "It makes me love you all the more." He meant to kiss her, but stopped midway as she cupped him through his jeans to rub him just a little.

"Then show me how much you love me." She said in a soft sensual voice laced with the irrefutable desire she felt for the guitarist above her. "I need you." At that she had slipped her hand into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his aching member to give it a slow agonizing stroke. The Swede clumsily took his pants off.

To Skwisgaar and Runa it didn't matter with who or how many they had slept with, whether it was for business or pleasure. It was in their blood to whore around, the thought of attachment a myth. Yet at the moment, all they needed was each other and no one else as the lasting love guided them through the motions of confirming their feelings. With simple kisses, caresses and movement, the two Scandinavians moved in sync. Runa gasped and moaned as Skwisgaar upped his tempo and held her hands tighter.

"Skwis… gaar. Oh!" Skwisgaar kissed her, his tongue snaking in and out her open mouth to mimic the motion of their nether region as she groaned when he jerked his hips up, hitting a sweet spot inside. Sweat rolled down their heated body as they slid alongside each other but the two didn't care as they rapidly approached their breaking point. Once it did, the duo groaned with mouth still joined. Skwisgaar twitched as his essence flowed right into her, Runa trembled beneath him with her legs holding onto him tightly.

"Runa… Sigrid… Hathor." Skwisgaar panted, slowly removing his limp cock from her to kneel in between her legs. She tried to catch her breath as she looked up at him, putting a hand on her racing heart as she looked up at him with half lidded eyes. Skwisgaar gently touched her cheek. "Would you do me the honor of officially becoming my wife?"

Is was as if she stopped breathing as she stared up at him with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open as she stared in disbelief. Here was the man she had bore a son to after throwing his first proposal back in his face not even twelve hours after he asked her to marry him requesting once again for the marriage they were both denied. Her heart thundered in her chest and for a moment Runa wondered if he could hear it himself.

"Skwisgaar…"

Skwisgaar placed a finger on her lips to silence her, "Runa, I've _never_ stopped loving you and now that you… _we_ have a son, I don't want Viktor to grow up without a father like me. I want him to be a part of my life like I want to be in his. We won't make the same mistake our parents made." Runa silently cried.

Slowly she sat up and hugged him around the middle, drawing in a shaky breath. "Oh Skwisgaar…" she began, "Of course I will marry you, and this time for sure. I'm just… so…" her voice cracked, "H-happy you w-want Viktor." Skwisgaar sensed there was something wrong. He waited for her to compose herself.

"But what?"

Runa shook her head, "What about the Undertakers?" she whispered. "If… if their after us again, Viktor would be in danger." Dethklok's lead guitarist moved to lay down next to her, understanding her fear immediately. "So we can't get married until Munkittrick is dead."

Skwisgaar sighed, stroking her hair and wondering what to do. "Then, we'll take baby steps and someday, you _are_ going to be Mrs. Skwisgelf, understand?" Runa's mouth twitched into a small smiled as she laughed quietly.

"If you say so then."

-----

Nathan woke up the next morning with a groan. Turning his head to stare at the clock in Ivan's… no… the Korshunova's home, it read 8 AM. Dark circles hung low on his eyes. The vocalist just couldn't get a decent night sleep without seeing _her_ face every time his eyes closed. It was practically a nightmare.

His mind kept creating scenarios of Moira and Ivan consummating their marriage, then shifting to thoughts of the happy couple having little Moira's and Ivan's running up and down the halls of their mansion. It tore at his insides, but he was just glad to know that they didn't have children yet. He probably would have died from a heart attack. His brain however dared to even imagine that Nathan took Ivan's place, making him Moira's husband and every night it was nothing but pure hot and steaming sex, sex, sex that ended with them whispering sweet nothings to each other. It was horrible.

Nathan groaned again, covering his face with his large hands. There was just no use. Truthfully he couldn't stay mad at her. Now that he had all night to think about it, she had left just as hurt as the others five years ago. He figures she had gone to Russia knowing he would never go there if given the choice with Ivan obvious just as in love as Nathan was with Moira then and now, was perhaps the only one she could turn to for comfort. It was like a damn sappy soap opera.

Ivan was handsome, dependable and definitely not an idiot when it came to expressing his feelings for the petite black haired singer. Who knew the two would actually settle down with one another. Moira was such a free and wild spirit in Nathan's opinion while Ivan was very structural. Ivan was no innocent man either, having his own fair share of women before Moira.

A growl formed in Nathan's throat. He was jealous, extremely so and he had no problem admitting it to himself. The whole entire time he was on an anti-Cancerous rampage, Nathan was actually just trying to rid himself of his attachment to the female metal vocalist, his fucking queen. It hurt too much. No woman after her could satisfy his unyielding crave for _her_ body. That was why the women he conquered from then on needed to have that little something so he could cling onto her memory of their special night.

Dear God, the moment he saw Moira again, his heart could have burst. Where had such weakness come from? He didn't know, nor did he really care. A knock at the door ruined his train of thought.

"What?" he yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth as he sank deeper into the warm covers. Ofdensen didn't answer as he walked in with a change of clothes for the front man. Ofdensen was already dressed in a dark grey suit with a white dress shirt., ready for business as he always was.

"Get dressed, we're leaving in an hour." He ordered, placing the clothes on a dresser. "A car is coming to take you to the hotel so you can get some rest. A new guide has been assigned to you."

Nathan sat up, his brows furrowing in deep thought, "Where's uh… what happened to uh, Slutsky?"

"In the hospital. And fired." Like that, the CFO left to do whatever it was he needed to do. Not that Nathan cared if she was fired or not, the woman was annoying, but he felt a little bad she was fired and in the hospital. Oh well. Shit happens. Getting up, Nathan slipped on the jeans and shirt and stepped out of the room. His suit was ruined, no point in taking it with him as he left it on the floor.

His stomach let out a huge rumble that seemed to echo in the hallway just then. Hunger… damn. Slowly he made his way to the kitchen as best as he could remember. The closer he got to the main ball room, a woman's voice could be heard speaking in Russian. They sounded just as tired as he felt. And because he was so tired, he didn't even stop to think about who it was until he crashed into someone when he closed his eyes to yawn. Nathan fell on top of a soft and warm body.

* * *

Done for now! Would have came out sooner but I was busy studying for a math test tomorrow. Ugh. _Cancerousklok_ is being revised and in case you didn't know, I suggest you re-read it. About 98 percent of my mistakes have been fixed (yay!) and there are a few changes such as the first time Moira meets Ivan and a fluff scene between Nathan and Moira. Go read. Go review. Go make me happy!

**Gremlin:** Undertakers are worse than the FBI :O

**Dragonz: **Huzzah on the beach scene! The vocalists have a tragic love thing going on that makes even _me _sad :(

**Livia: **Sorry I mis-typed your username, but please don't call me a bitch. How and why I mis-type it confuses even me, but it happens. And ironically enough you get a sex scene. XD


	6. The Tribunal

Finally, a long awaited chapter! I hope you don't throw stuff at me or plot my destruction ;-; I love you guys!

* * *

Chapter 6: The Tribunal: So it Begins…

Senator Stampingston stood before the Tribunal, going over the new changes of the now disband Cancerous for those who weren't up to date. Once that was over, the elderly man cleared his throat as the screen behind him flashed; showing a picture of the attack at the opera house Moira was performing in.

"Gentlemen, this attack was not a coincident." General Crozier said, his fists clenched tightly in front of him. Mr. Selatcia raised a brow in question but said nothing as the military man continued, "Korshunova has done an exceptional job as head of Dethklok Russia and CEO of deceased Lebedev's Security company that we all know is nothing but a cover for a large drug control center. There has been numerous occasions where Moira and Ivan were not together, and no attacks had occurred. My guess would have to be someone is tailing both Moira and Nathan to prevent a meeting."

Vater Orlaag strummed his finger tips on the table. "Perhaps, General Crozier. Though there is still much to look into. Dethklok and Cancerous regrouping does not seem to be much a threat as of yet. I believe we should wait until something else happens between the bands. We cannot rely on what happens to the leaders." He smirked, taking a quick peek at the man sitting at the other end of the table. Crozier glared right at him.

"Vocalists are the ones that keep the band together. I say we form an attack plan. Undertakers are back!"

Senator Stampingston sighed. "Gentlemen, settle down. It had not been confirmed that either Munkittrick or Van Winkler are behind these attacks. For all we know, the assailants were nothing but renegade survivors of the attack five years ago."

Mr. Selatcia finally spoke, his low gravelly voice a soft rumble. "General Crozier… Do not think for a moment I did not figure out your attachment to Ms. Implosion. God Child, yes?" Crozier stiffened as everyone stared at him with shock. "I begin to question your faith of our main objective, and that is Dethklok. There shall be no plan for attack against these mongrels. You will be watched until I am convinced you will not betray us. For now, we wait and see."

General Crozier bit back a retort, knowing full well that it would get him nowhere. All he could do was follow his orders.

Vater Orlaag cleared his throat. "Yes... well, what do we know of the others?"

Stampingston sighed again, "Pickles and Cherry seem to be back together. The female drummer has been under the psuedo name of CC Woodrow, CC coming her childhood nick name of 'Cherry Coke'. And might I add, she is quite a NASCAR driver. Skwisgaar Skwisgelf and Runa Hathor have a four, soon to be five, year old son named Viktor. Susanna Bloodyfist is Ms. America Light-weight wrestling champion and the founder of the psychobilly band _Ovary Override_. Lucy Peacetong is Europe's number one DJ and club owner. Finally, Moira Implosion, now known as Mrs. Korshunova. As we know as well, Moira had become a sensation in the realm of opera and pop, the Princess of Pop-era as she is called. The Queen of Metal is no more."

"Interesting..." Orlaag mused aloud, rubbing his bright orange beard in thought. This were definitely different now. While Stampingston was going over the news, the recent picture of each girl was shown. Runa however had done an exceptional job of keeping her son out of the tabaloids, thus only three pictures (when he was just a year old) were shown. She was indeed a fine and protective mother.

* * *

Yikes! Sorry guys for this long update. I had a case of writer's block, ya know? While sitting at work with nothing to do, it dawned on me we were due for a Tribunal chapter anyway. Don't think I forgot about them! This'll also buy me some time to finish up chapter 7 which I would like to believe is half way done.

**Angela:** No, he can't. It just wouldn't be fun now would it? lol

**Gremlin: **I want to hug Nathan too, don't worry though. All will come to together in the end :)

**Livia: **Just who exactly did Nathan fall on? DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUNNNN!!!

**Cybernetic: **Yes… Phantom has been stuck in my head lately. Thanks... -.-;

Ok, that's it for now guys! Thanks for waiting! Send me some love too, ok? Much love!


	7. Chapter 7: FORIVE ME!

**I am updating all my stories with this message: no need to review/comment, just hear me out as to why I've been on hiatus [AGAIN]**.

First and for most, I hope my readers are still out there. I want to sincerely apologize for my absence… However if you haven't figured out, I am a dumbass and well… I forgot my password. Yes, I forgot my mother-fucking password. It sucked ass, then out a stroke of luck at 4:30 in the goddamn mother fucking morning with a rumbling tummy three years later, I remembered it. I fucking REMEMBERED by far one of the easiest passwords I have in my arsenal, it's like spelling Mississippi but STILL getting it wrong because I mother fucking misspelled it. Who wins dumbass of the year award? THIS BITCH!

Second, my original crashed. Not like a virus crash, but fell of my desk and obliterated the already cracked screen. It stopped charging too. It went to laptop heaven and it sucks because I lost my hard drive I had backed up everything into. I have NOTHING. All of my stories I must go back to and reread them myself, retweak my shit grammar mistakes and for the love of god hope I remember the mother fucking story lines. Specifically my Inu Yasha fics. However, considered myself fucked because pages of notes and dozens of chapter drafts to go by are gone into virtual purgatory. I know there's a way to extract my shit outta my dead laptop, but I don't have the funds to see an expert. Where's my Dr. Horrible when I need him to rob a mother fucking bank for me? You can skip this next ish... It's only up for the mother fucking sake of venting.

* * *

Also, you know I haven't hid much from you from my personal life. I say things not to draw attention upon myself and hope ya'll would feel bad for me and leave me reviews to cheer me up. Oh no, I am as open in real life and I am online. I just don't dive into my sex life (at least detailed wise). Everything else though is game. The last few years go as followed, first notes bad, followed by positive shit.

-Finally recover from my near death experience, get a boyfriend who sadly lives in Florida, see him for the first time in person in October for Halloween weekend. I is loads happy, forget all about fanfic writing for a bit.

-Lost jobs- FREE TIME! Met some awesome new friends at the premier of Wolf Man, one becomes my best best friend later in the year, and my lover boy

-Get ticket in San Diego while seeing an old friend-Worth getting the wrong and cheaper bill for our sushi lunch and got free coffee bean

-BIRTHDAY- one year to go until I'm 21

-Mom finds ticket-its eight mother fucking dollars

-Mom kicks me out of the house because she's a bitch and I'm banned from see my babies for like 3 or 4 month (I love my baby siblings!)-Still see now ex-long distance boyfriend in Florida

-Yay week vacation!- Come back to live in the ghetto with my dad

-Two weeks later boyfriend admits he cheats on me—FORGIVE HIM!

-Two months later find out he's living with the bitch for half our relationship—BREAK UP WITH HIM!

-Cry for like a week to new best friend-Best friend and I start having sexy time

-Return to school- see lover boy often despite him living 60 miles away!

-Black out during New Years and results in my sister throwing me under the bus, thus banishing me from seeing my babies for 8 mother fucking months. Missed my baby girl's 5th birthday and her first day of kindergarten- my abuelita still talked to me!

-21st birthday-VEGAS! I lived the mother fucking Vegas dream. How my liver didn't explode or not pass out like New Year remains and mother fucking mystery.

-Find out why lover boy has been single for a few years- epic tears on my part for the saddest story ever. I literally wept for him and his experience. No, she did not die. She was an emotionally and mentally abusive bitch who blamed him for the shit she got herself into when he tried to man up. I knew her, and yea, she's a fucking psycho. Still is… however it resulted in us getting closer and what do you know, he starts to love me in return

-Day of finals, went to drink with my classmates and teacher, dad gets pissy and explodes on me about him wanting to divorce my stepmom- sweet lover boy allows me to stay with him for a week a few months later when his parents are gone.

- Turns out dad already has a girlfriend in mother fucking HONDURAS. Like fucking hillbillies, it's his nephew's ex WIFE who bore said nephew 3 children and has another one from another man! Work for a bitch-HAVE A JOB!

-After getting drinks with stepmom and friends the Monday after Thanksgiving, BOTH of my parents try to commit mother-fucking suicide. Still really fucked up from that night, I haven't been the same since. This led to more fucked up crap. Lover boy's cousin commits suicide Christmas day, I go to cheer him up, a week later I hear rumors he wants to get back with his ex from 7yrs ago, he LIES to me about it when he dumps me, I go apeshit crazy on the phone one night after having way too many drinks at a party, same night had to clean my friend's vomit from the bathroom floor while she's passed out pantsless on the toilet (I am an amazing friend, I know. All I remember was cracking the door open and asking for an entire roll of paper towels, some Windex and a baggy), 22nd birthday comes around but all I get from lover boy is a no-show when he and my other best friends are invited to one of the most beautiful lounges in LA (Check out the Edison, it's breath taking and steampunk and I could sploosh) so my feelings are hurt all over again on my mother fucking birthday. - - - -Met a nice guy at a bar and go on a few really wonderful non-sexy time dates with him. This isn't a bad thing. We start to date, yay!

-Dad costs the company he was working for almost a quarter of a million dollars because of a stupid mistake that could have been avoided if he wasn't fucking skyping with his katratcha bitch.- risk losing everything and be out on the street!... oh shit, that's not a good thing though….

-Get a hold of lover boy on Dia de las Madres, forgive each other for everything but his girlfriend is a bitch and hates my guts and doesn't want him talking to me, we gotta ninja our relationship again even though it's nothing sexy—mom finally gets her "dream wedding" which I was almost NOT invited to!

-Got a mother fucking traffic ticket for "texting" the same night! Two weeks later, lose my job! A week later: lover boy says we cant be friends anymore because he doesn't want to lose her. Beyond mother fucking pissed was I. A week later… DUI! Mother fucking stayed a night in jail without boots and my bra. Not a good time to wear a halter-top and a mini skirt- DAD PAYS LEGAL FEES

-Lover boy and I talk again only for a week later he tells me to ask his cunt-sucking whore for permission to be his friend, End up not talking to him for 2 months. – GANGSTA PARADISE PARTY WITH PEOPLE LIKE 5 TO 10 YEARS OLDER THAN ME! Who gives a shit if my ex texts me saying that he misses me and thinks about me constantly? Fuck that noise, I get drunk and chola out!

-Now boyfriend meets mom at the end of September, it was HORRIBLE, got to Universal Halloween Horror night same night, stop hearing from him the following Thursday and I have to deal with ex lover boy at friend's party. Mother fucking awkward as fuck.-End up talking to him the following Monday for 3hrs on the phone. Keep in mind he is a strong and stubborn man, but he was crying on the phone, apologizing and telling me he left me cause he got scared. Mother fucker loved me too much he wanted to marry me but the last time he thought that, he was with psycho bitch and he flipped out. I forgive him, see him the next day, epic and totally uncalled for make up sex that strangely dealt with many tears occurred. Saw looper and we decide to get back. Fuckmageddon II occurs between us while his parents are away a week later.

-Ex-lover boy gone legit boyfriend finds out his life was a lie and feels like an inadequate son. Uncle dies two weeks later- he's in New Mexico visiting family he hasn't seen in half a decade!

* * *

There ya have the "cliff notes".

The beginning of the year I was on the verge of being an alcoholic, but now I'm much better and happier and putting my life back together on my own. My boyfriend is supporting me and reminds me that I'm not fuck up. Ever since the double suicide thing (not because my parents love each other, they can't fucking stand each other), I just haven't been the same. I had to tackle them both to the floor at some point in the night. My stepmom around 2:30AM and my father, a 350+lbs man at 5AM. With him it was the most traumatizing because not only did he swallow my stepmom kidney medication, I had to tackle this behemoth on my own. He's 5'10, I'm just less than 5'4" and I weigh half his size. I not only tackled him to the concrete floor while I have a bad back, I get him in a choke hold and incapacitate him long enough for the paramedics to come and cuff him. He thrashed and bucked, me below him in excruciating pain but like a mother fucking boss I held my ground like some mini she-hulk.

I hope none of you EVER have to go through such an experience. If you have, I am so sorry, but I hope you're coping with it in a healthy manner and not be like me with substance abuse. I am much better now thanks to my friends. Fuck my family… At least not my mother's side because they don't and will never know about my father's 'behavior'. As for my father's side… they support his childish 'love'. Their support and lack of questioning his sanity led to that god-awful night I still have nightmares about. Without my friends being there for me, I don't think I would have made it myself. I've been going through so much stress… I'm also out of school again and because we can't afford to pay last semester's tuition, I can't return for spring. I dropped half way last semester because of the stress and trauma.

In the next few weeks I should be pumping out new chapters! I don't have shit to do when I'm not with my boyfriend, at AA meetings or doing community labor. Think of it as an early Christmas gift! Hopefully I can start updating again on a semi regular basis considering I don't have a J-O-B and I only see my love on Fridays and occasionally Tuesdays' nights for sleep over's :D

Much love always.

Insane Kawaii Shippo-chan


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